A Nightmare on Loud Street Part 2: Freddy's Back
by Flagg1991
Summary: Undead serial killer Freddy Krueger returns to haunt the dreams – and waking lives – of the Louds...leading to a shocking discovery. Cover by Raganoxer.
1. A Trip to Hell

A girl with thick chestnut hair in a ponytail staggers along a metal catwalk, steam rising from below. She pauses, grips the cold railing, and looks down: A dizzying drop terminates in a dull red glow. Is it lava? Fire? Hell? She doesn't know, but she doesn't want to find out.

She follows the walkway down a step of stairs and into a narrow hallway. Pipes and exposed wires run along the walls, while bare lights overhead cast murky pools of illumination on the floor. She is uncharacteristically scared, her heart racing and her brow covered in sweat.

"Lynn!" a voice cries in terror.

It's Lincoln.

She comes to a halt, her body tensing.

"Lynn! Help me!"

She unfreezes. "Linc!"

"Help! He's got me!"

Her heart blasts against her chest when she hears the loud shriek of metal scraping metal followed by dark, demonic laughter. Unthinkingly, she begins to run, her body flooding with adrenaline and her teeth gritting in determination. She doesn't know what lies ahead...she only knows that her brother is in danger and needs her.

Ahead, the hallway ends at an intersection. She comes to a shuffling stop, already beginning to pant, and jerks her head left and right, seeing identical corridors running into forever. Which way, damn it? _Which way?_

As if in answer, she sees Lincoln being dragged into an open doorway, one arm flailing. "Help me!"

"Lincoln!"

She pounds down the hallway, pumping her arms and legs as fast as she can and tucking her head against her chest to cut down on wind resistance. She doesn't know who has her brother, but she's going to rip them apart when she gets her hands on them. She reaches the doorway and bursts through it; a set of stairs lead down to a landing, and her momentum pushes her toward them. To keep from falling, she leaps, and lands on the landing, her knees bending and her hands touching cold metal. She jumps up, and goes down the rest. She is in another long hallway; the walls of this one are bare, cracked concrete splotched here and there with brown water stains. At the end is a door with a sign. She stops to read it.

HALT. NO WEAK LITTLE GIRLS BEYOND THIS POINT.

She snorts and opens it, but draws back with a gasp. What she sees is hell...literally hell. When she was a little girl, she was terrified of the hellish visions preached from the pulpit of her parents' church. She feared going there herself, and sometimes she would lie awake at night imagining what hell must be like.

And here it was. A blasted moonscape of red soil and fiery skies, the ghastly terrain dotted with dead, black trees like charred skeletons. Tortured sinners were buried in the ground to the chest, their faces burned and twisted in agony, their decaying arms reaching to her as if in supplication. All of her determination, all of her courage, was suddenly gone, and she shook like a leaf in a violent wind.

"Lynn!" Lincoln's voice drifted from deep in the hellworld.

She was hyperventilating now, her hands clutching the front of her jersey. She had to help her brother...he needed her.

" _Lynn! Please!"_

 _I can't!_

A moaning wind sprang up and washed over her: It stank of burned flesh and death.

" _Ahhhh, Lynn, please!"_

His voice was high-pitched and warbling. A vision of him being hurt flashed before her eyes, and that decided her: Mustering everything she had, she drew back and took a running start, leaping over the threshold and planting her feet in the soil, kicking up clouds of dust. She moved as quickly as she could, screams, wails, and weeping rising all around her. Tears streamed down her freckled cheeks, and she kept her eyes straight ahead lest she turn and see something so awful it drove her mad.

She reached a pile of blasted rocks, and saw an open door. She ducked inside, and was back where she had started, standing on the catwalk. She whipped her head around, turning in circles. "Lincoln!" she screamed, her voice rebounding. _"Lincoln!"_

He didn't answer, and she began to cry. _"Where are you?"  
_

"Right here, Lynn," he pipped, and she spun, her rising joy crashing when she saw not Lincoln, but someone else...a tall man with a burned face. He was clad in a ragged red and green striped sweater, tattered brown pants, and muddy work boots, a dusty fedora covering the top of his head. He lifted his right arm, and firelight shone on the metal knives affixed to each finger.

Freddy Krueger.

Horror washed through Lynn, and her knees went weak. "No," she muttered, taking a step back and shaking her head, her hand gripping the railing, "no...no..."

Freddy opened his mouth, and Lincoln's voice issued forth. "It's me, Lynn, I swear. I just had a growth spurt...and got burned. I'm so scared. Can I have a hug?"

Freddy sprang, and Lynn reacted on pure instinct, lashing out with her foot and catching him in the stomach. He doubled over, and, grinding her teeth in a mixture of terror and rage, she spun and kicked him across the face, throwing him against the rail. With a dark scream, he went over the side and fell. Lynn rushed over and looked down, her eyes locking with his before he disappeared into the hellish glow.

She released a breath she didn't know she was holding, and turned.

Freddy grabbed her by the front of her jersey and shoved her against the rail. She screamed.

"It's just you and me now, bitch," he said and brought his hand up.

"Fuck you!" Lynn sneered, and spat in his face, a glob of saliva breaking against his nose. He smiled, and to Lynn's unending horror, an abnormally long tongue shot out snake-like and licked it up.

He laughed, and lashed her with it: She cried out with revulsion as its tip danced along her cheek, then down her neck. She thrashed, but Freddy was too strong. "The taste of girl," he said as his tongue slipped down the front of her shirt and under her sports bra. She panicked, and kicked him between the legs.

It had no effect. He simply tilted his head and regarded her with sparkling, fire lit eyes. "Uh-uh," he said, " _that_ burned off a long time ago." He drew his claw arm back, and Lynn knew she was going to die. She closed her eyes and took a series of hitching breaths, using the last of her determination to not give him the satisfaction of seeing her fear. "Say hello to Luna and Luan for me," he said, and...

 _Beep-beep-beep._

Lynn sat bolt upright in bed, a scream locked in her throat. Her heart was racing and her body was slathered with sweat. Pale, early morning light streamed through the window, painting the room an eerie shade of ghost. In the next bed over, Lucy's breathing was steady and shallow, as it was every night. Lynn glanced at her sister and unconsciously touched her own chest, expecting to find blood and ripped flesh, but finding only her shirt and smooth, unbroken skin below.

Just a dream, that's all, a regular, normal nightmare; Freddy was dead.

This wasn't the first time she dreamed of him, and she wasn't the only one: Lincoln, Lori, and Lola all had at one point or another, and it always turned out to be nothing. Still, there was a protocol, and if there was one thing you could never say about Lynn Loud Jr., it's that she's not a team player. She swung her legs out from under the covers, crept into the hall, and pushed Lisa's door open. The little girl was snuggled under the blankets, her face resting on folded hands. Lynn went over and sat on the edge of the bed: Lisa instantly came awake, her eyes clear.

"It's just me," Lynn said as Lisa reached for her glasses.

"A Freddy dream, I presume?" Lisa asked as she slipped her glasses on.

Lynn nodded.

"Alright," Lisa said. She got up and went over to her lab, where she opened up a drawer and pulled out a pill bottle. She unscrewed the cap, shook one into the palm of her hand, and came back to the bed. Lynn held out her hand, and Lisa dropped a small white capsule into her palm. "You know the drill."

The pill was to be taken a half an hour before bed. It would suppress the REM cycle and prevent dreams. Lisa's rationale was this: While she could not keep Krueger from attacking if he _did_ somehow find his way 'back,' she could at least differentiate between dreams that were harmless...and dreams that were not. If a dream managed to form despite the chemical, it was bad. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Lisa had said. How, Lynn did not know, and she suspected that Lisa didn't either.

"Thanks," Lynn said, and got up. Lisa took a logbook from her nightstand drawer and wrote the pertinent information on a graph chart: LYNN – OCTOBER 9, 2017."

Lisa looked up at her, and Lynn said, "I was in a...I don't know, it looked kind of like a boiler room. There was a catwalk and fire everywhere. I heard Lincoln screaming, and I followed the sound of his voice through a door and into hell. On the other side, Freddy got me. He was using Lincoln's voice."

Lisa nodded and jotted that down. "You said he got you. Does that mean he actually harmed you?"

Lynn shook her head. "My alarm woke me."

"Ah." Lisa added that, then snapped the book closed. "We'll see."

* * *

In her bedroom, Rita Loud sat against an overstuffed pillow, her arms crossed over her ample bosom and the last vestiges of the previous night's dreams swirling in her mind like acrid smoke. Next to her, her husband was a lump under the blankets, his breathing slow and regular. Rita was tempted to wake him so she could talk to him...or let him hold her and cover the back of her neck in comforting kisses, but he got home late from work last night, and was heading in early today, so she let him sleep.

She was a grown woman. She could deal with a nightmare on her own.

Tears came to her eyes as she remembered it. She was a little girl in a white dress and pigtails, and she was lost in the shadowy corridors of a house she didn't recognize. Ratty curtains hanging over broken windows fluttered in a cold, stale wind, and water dripped from the ceiling. The walls were black and skeletal, and debris littered the floor. She was not scared. In fact, she felt an inner peace that she had not known since she was a child.

At the end of the hall, she opened a door and walked into a room that was different from the rest of the house. It was dusty but warmly lit and bore no traces of the fire that apparently ravaged everything else. A long work bench ran along a far wall, and above it was a pegboard on which hung dozens of strange contraptions. Rita cocked her head curiously and went to the bench. As she drew closer, she realized that they were gloves, each retrofitted with knives: Long knives, skinny knives, blades shaped like cork-screws, blades that were really spikes. The flickering light of an oil lamp gleamed on cold steel, and Rita began to feel fear rising in her chest.

Framed newspaper articles hung proudly on either side of the pegboard. SPRINGWOOD SLASHER STRIKES AGAIN, blared one headlight. MISSING CHILD FOUND SLAIN, screamed another.

She heard something behind her, and spun with a tiny _"Eeep!"_

A man with a narrow face stood in the doorway, deep crow's feet spreading from faded blue eyes. His nose was hooked, and his dull blonde hair was receding back from his forehead. He wore a long black trench coat over a red and green striped sweater, a fedora clutched in his hand.

He smiled coldly, and Rita took a step back, bumping into the edge of the table. "Rita," he drew in a tone a parent might use with a naughty child, "you shouldn't be in here."

Rita opened her mouth to reply, but her lips trembled and she started to cry.

"Awww," the man said. He tossed the hat aside and came forward. "I'm not going to hurt you."

She turned to run, but suddenly the scene changed, and she was standing in what appeared to be a wide ballroom. The walls were black and decayed. Curtains fluttered. Her heart clutched, and when she heard a shuffling footfall behind her, she turned. A figure emerged from the shadows, and when Rita saw who it was, her entire body was wracked with pins and needles.

"L-Luan?"

Rita was a child...but she recognized her daughter, and felt again the flood of agony that always accompanied memories of her. You see...Luan was dead...died mysteriously in the night, followed several days later by Luna.

Luan was dressed as she always was in Rita's memory: White blouse, yellow skirt with thin black pinstripes, and knee high socks. A little pink flower was affixed to her shirt. She smiled, cold moonlight glinting on her braces. "Hey, Mom," she said happily.

Tears sprang to Rita's eyes, and she tried to fight them back but couldn't. Luan was dead...but somehow, here she was, alive and whole. "C-Come here, baby," Rita wept, opening her arms. Luan's smile widened and she went to her mother. Rita only came up to Luan's waist, but she hugged her daughter's legs as tightly as she could, crying against her skirt.

"It's okay, Mom," Luan said, "I'm back...and as long as you keep dreaming of me, I'll only get stronger." She laughed, her voice changing, becoming dark, deep. Rita's heart seized, and she pulled away from the girl, gasping when she saw that she had changed. She now wore a red and green striped sweater and black pants. A fedora sat atop her head, and her eyes blazed with the fires of hell.

"L-Luan?"

"Fear is what keeps me keepin on," Luan said in a sinister voice that was not her own. She took a step forward, and Rita fell back a step. "Fear is what makes me the man of your dreams... _get it?"  
_

Luan threw up her right hand, and Rita saw the blades. She screamed, and when she came awake, she was trembling. That was almost two hours ago, and in that time she hadn't moved from her spot...she couldn't say why, but she was afraid to get up...afraid that a clawed hand would shoot out from under the bed and grab her ankle...afraid that she would fall and that she would see Luan's rotted face, her empty eye-sockets squirming with maggots and her shrunken lips peeled back to reveal too big teeth.

Presently she folded her hands over her face and fought against the emotion welling in her. Losing Luan, then Luna, had been hard on her. For nearly three months she couldn't sleep without a Valium, and when she _was_ awake, she couldn't bring herself to get out of bed; everywhere she looked she was reminded of her lost daughters. Their faces smiled from framed photos, and every time she saw them, she couldn't stop herself from wondering what they looked like right now...six feet down...in leaky coffins...

She had other children, and they needed their mother; that was the only thing that kept her from swallowing the whole bottle of Valium and downing it with whiskey to escape the pain, was the only thing that pulled her from the pit of despair she had fallen into.

She had to be strong, for them.

Even though she was afraid, she got up.


	2. When Good Sisters Go Bad

**Guest: One day.**

* * *

Lincoln walked into the dining room on the morning of October 9 and heard his name; his ears pricked and he scanned the table, where his sisters were clustered. "Huh?" he asked.

" _There_ he is," Lori said, a spoon half-way raised to her lips. "We were just wondering if you fell in. You were in the bathroom for a _long_ time."

Oh, that, heh. With ten sisters, there was always a line for the bathroom in the mornings, and more often than not, Lincoln was dead last. This morning was no exception, which he was thankful for because...

"I kind of...fell asleep in the shower."

For a moment his sisters stared blankly at him...then they all began to laugh. Warm color touched Lincoln's cheeks, and he bowed his head.

"How do you _fall asleep_ in the shower?" Lori asked.

"That assertion is highly suspect," Lisa added, "I believe you are lying and that there is another reason you occupied the bathroom for so long."

"Like he was touching himself," Leni said, and snickered behind her hand.

Great, another roast. Why do these keep happening? It's getting old. Ignoring them, he went into the kitchen, grabbed a bowl, filled it with cereal and milk, and then brought it back into the dining room, where he sat next to Lynn. "I was about to come looking for you," she said, and the lack of mirth in her tone told him that she was serious.

And she was; she was still jumpy from the dream, and the longer Lincoln was up there, the more anxious she became.

"Did you _really_ fall asleep in the shower?" Lola asked.

"Yes," Lincoln said.

"Okay, how?" Lana put in.

Lincoln sighed. "I rested my head against the wall, and the next thing I knew, I was slipping and falling down."

Everyone laughed again, except for Lynn, who only smiled weakly. Something was up with her this morning.

Lori shook her head, then sobered, a slight edge of worry creeping into her voice, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Lincoln said, "I bent my wrist a little, but it's okay."

They lapsed into silence then, and as he did every morning, Lincoln glanced up at the two empty spots where Luan and Luna would be sitting if –

He closed that thought out and focused on his cereal. It had been nearly a year since what happened happened, and even though he felt their absence every single day and probably would for the rest of his life, the worst of the pain was over – it had gone from a sharp stabbing to a dull ache. Thinking of it would only make it worse.

When he was done, he carried his empty bowl into the kitchen and sat it in the sink. In the living room, he dropped into the armchair: He threw his feet over one arm and rested his head against the other. He would just wait until his sisters were done, then they'd all walk to school together. He closed his eyes and spaced for a second, then opened them. In the dining room, everyone laughed.

"I fell asleep in the shower," Lori mocked. "He was really touching that little thing he calls a dick."

Lincoln flinched.

"What a fucking loser," Lynn said. "That stupid cowlick and those busted teeth. Man, every time I see his face I just wanna punch it in."

Lincoln sat up, his stomach clenching. Why were they talking about him like that?

"I hate Lincy's guts," Leni spat, "I hope he dies."

Tears came to Lincoln's eyes. He loved his sisters...and to hear them saying those things wounded him deeply.

"I say we kill him," Lucy said.

Lincoln tensed. K-Kill me?

"I _like_ that idea," Lola said. "Let's get him."

Seven chairs scraped against the floor as they were pushed back from the table, and a thunderbolt of terror struck Lincoln's heart. He tried to get up – to flee – but he was frozen as they entered in a group, Lori at the head, her shoulders hunched and her fists clenched. Her nostrils flared angrily, and her eyes raged with flames. "Come here, Lincoln," she said tightly.

Behind her, Lynn punched one hand with the other; Lucy's teeth were bared; Leni smashed a bowl against the end table and held up a jagged shard; Lola and Lana both growled; Lisa cracked her knuckles. Lincoln gulped, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest. "G-Guys?"

"You've been stinking up our family long enough, you white haired wimp," Lori said. "Now you die."

She lunged for him, and he jumped from the chair, ducking around the couch. Leni came around the other side, her knees bent and her shoulders squared. "You're _totes_ dead, you little faggot." She swiped the air with her glass shard, and he jumped back. Lori grabbed him from behind, and he reacted, stomping hard on her foot. She yelped and fell back into the chair.

"Get him, girls!" she yelled.

The others came for him, and panicking, he jumped onto the couch, then leapt over the back, landing at the foot of the stairs. He started up, but Lynn hit him from behind like a steam engine and knocked him down: His nose hit the edge of one of the stair treads, and he felt it crunch.

"We never wanted a brother," Lynn said through clenched teeth, and punched him in the back of the head: Stars burst across his vision, and he uttered a frightened squeal. "You should have died in the womb."

She hit him again, and he screamed. _"Please stop!"_

He felt her cock her fist back again, and summoning all of his energy, he bucked her off. She fell down the stairs and landed at her sisters' feet. Lincoln jumped up and flew up the stairs, pausing at the top when he saw a blinking red sign hanging from the ceiling: An arrow pointing toward his room underneath the words SAFETY THIS WAY. He unthinkingly followed it, bursting through his door and slamming it behind him. He turned the lock and threw himself against it.

Why were they doing this? _He thought they loved him!_

A fist pounded against the door, and he jumped with a scream.

"I know you're in there, you piece of shit!" Lynn said.

Lincoln opened his mouth to reply, but his vocal cords froze when his TV cut on. A man in black Buddy Holly glasses and a red and green plaid jacket stood in front of a light blue backdrop. He started to speak, but a little girl in a pink dress appeared on screen, a butcher knife in her hand. "Oh, no," the man said woodenly into the camera, "my sister is trying to kill me again. Luckily, I have Sister-B-Gone." He reached into his jacket, pulled out a spray bottle, and squirted the girl in the face. She winked out of existence like a light. "Do _you_ have sister problems?"

Lincoln found himself screaming: _"Yes, they're trying to kill me!"_

"If you do, come here, let me tell you a secret."

Lincoln's legs carried him away from the door and toward the TV, moving under their own power. A predatory grin flashed across the man's face when Lincoln stopped inches from the screen.

"Closer," the man said, and Lincoln found himself bending.

The man leaned in. "You, too, can have Sister-B-Gone for one easy payment..."

Suddenly the man's head came through the screen. Lincoln screamed as he grabbed his face.

"OF YOUR SOUL!"

The man dragged Lincoln in, and suddenly he was standing in a hallway. The walls were cinderblock and florescent lights flickered overhead. Something clattered behind him, and he spun.

Freddy Krueger was there, his face blistered and burned and his rotten yellow teeth bared in a bellicose smile. The air left Lincoln in a rush, and his bowels turned to jelly. With a flourish, Freddy squatted down and threw a roundhouse kick, his boot coming close to hitting Lincoln's face; he then threw his open hands up like a ninja. "Come on, Lincy," he said, "let's go a couple rounds."

Lincoln turned to flee, but Freddy was somehow blocking his path. He snatched Lincoln by the shirt and lifted him off his feet. "What's the matter, Linc? Don't wanna play skin the cat with your old pal, Freddy?"

Lincoln started to cry, and Freddy laughed. "You really _are_ a wimp." He drew Lincoln closer until their noses were almost touching. Lincoln could smell the monster's rancid breath. Freddy's mouth and eyes widened as an idea struck him. He held up one knife-finger. "I know." He blew a hot puff of air into Lincoln's face, and suddenly Lincoln was standing in front of a full length mirror. With a shock, he saw that he was different: His hair was longer, his features were a _little_ softer, and he wore an orange hair clip.

Freddy appeared behind him, and grabbed him by the shoulders, pressing his lips to Lincoln's ear. "I think this suits you better... _Linka_."

Lincoln screamed, and Freddy spun him around. He pinched something between the thumb and forefinger of his normal hand and held it up. When Lincoln saw his own testicles, his eyes rolled back in his head. "Won't be needing _these_ anymore...not that you had much use for them before." With that, Freddy plopped them into his mouth and bit down: Blood splattered Lincoln's face.

Freddy chewed and nodded appreciatively. "Needs more testosterone."

Lincoln started to faint, but Freddy caught him and lifted him up again. "Are you scared, little girl?"

Tears coursed down Lincoln's face. "You better be," Freddy said, "I like fear...it makes me powerful."

Freddy brought up his claw and flashed it down. At the last second, Lincoln threw up his arm...and came awake on the chair, his heart slamming and his mouth open. He thrashed, certain that Freddy was there, and fell onto the floor. In the dining room, Lori laughed. "That's _so_ last year, Leni. I thought you knew."

"No, it's _totes_ this season."

On his hands and knees, Lincoln took three deep breaths. His heart was slamming and his arms and legs were shaking. A dream. Just a dream. A..

 _Dream._

Quivering all over, Lincoln got to his feet and bumped into the couch, nearly falling over. "L-Lisa!" he screamed, and the chatter in the dining room ceased.

He stumbled in, and everyone looked at him, their eyes dark with worry. "Linc, what's wrong?" Lori asked, standing, "you're _literally_ white."

"I had a Freddy dream," he sputtered, and everyone flinched except for Lynn; she jumped up, her face paling.

"You too?"

Suddenly everyone was talking excitedly over each other. Lori looked at Lisa. "What's going on?"

Lisa held up a hand.

"Quiet!" Lori screamed, and everyone closed their mouths. "Well?" she looked at Lisa.

"Lynn had a dream last night," Lisa said.

Everyone glanced at Lynn, who had her arm around Lincoln; he was shaking and fighting back tears.

"It _could_ be a coincidence," Lisa cautioned, "but..."

"I-Is he back?" Leni asked, frightened.

Everyone started talking again, and Lori called for silence. Lisa looked uncertain. If you looked close enough, you may have been able to see fear in her eyes. "I don't know, but there's no use in panicking. I have everything under control."

"My arm," Lincoln said, remembering, "in the dream he clawed my arm." Lynn grabbed it and examined it.

Her face went even whiter than it already was. "Uh...guys."

Everyone jumped up and crowded around, each one giving voice to their horror in their own way, for three faint red marks blighted Lincoln's flesh...


	3. Day Terrors

**STR2D3PO: I've almost done it before.**

* * *

Leni Loud sat in the back of the class with her hands fisted in her lap. She tried focusing on the teacher, but she was, like, too preoccupied.

He was back. The scary man with the yucky burned face and the scary knife-fingers who killed Luna and Luan was back, and they were all in danger. How can you listen to math talk when you have _that_ going on? The answer is you can't; you can't focus on anything but the fear, because the next time you fall asleep it might be your turn to die, or...worse...another one of your siblings might die, and Leni couldn't stand losing someone else. Luna and Luan were two too many; she missed them every day and sometimes she still cried when she was alone and sure no one could hear her. If Lynn...or Lori...or Lincy...or anyone else died, she'd die too.

Lisa had it under control, though. Leni didn't remember exactly what Lisa had up her sleeve, but she did remember that it was really smart and stuff, and it would protect them from Freddy.

The teacher's voice droned on and on, and Leni rested her chin in her palms. How did he, like, come back? They killed him. You can't come back from being killed. If you could, Luna and Luan would be home and no one would be sad. Did they not kill him hard enough? They burned him up, though! If burning doesn't work, what will? A bomb? Acid?

She didn't know. Like everyone said, she was just a blockhead: She should just leave it to Lisa.

 _Drone. Drone. Drone._

Leni closed her eyes, but snapped them back open. Sleeping was _totes_ not a good idea. _I know! I'll read a fashion magazine!_

Smiling happily to herself, she pulled a magazine out from the inside of her desk and then opened her text book. She slipped the magazine in, looked around with narrowed eyes to make sure no one was watching, then turned back and grinned. Ooooh, _that_ was cute. She could _totes_ see herself wearing that and looking fab. She turned the page. Gasp...that was cute too! So much cute stuff, so little ti...

That thought trailed off when she realized the teacher was standing over her, his arms crossed over his chest and his foot tapping the floor. Uh-oh. Leni looked up into his stern face and smiled sheepishly.

"Miss Loud...why are you reading magazines in my class?"

She could feel everyone's eyes on her, and she blushed. "I, uh..."

The teacher reached out and grabbed the magazine, his sharp knife fingers tearing through the paper. Leni's breath caught. Knife fingers?

She looked up, and Freddy was smirking at her. Her jaw fell open and her mind blanked. "Kids these days...no respect," he said and shook his head sadly. "You know what they say, Leni, a mind is a terrible thing to waste." He reached out with his pokey fingers, and Leni shrank away. He stopped. "I'm not going to hurt you," he said, his voice filled with faux concern.

"Y-You're not?"

"No," he drew. "I'm just going to scare the living shit out of you."

He opened his mouth, and Leni screamed when a million black spiders with hairy legs and dark eyes poured out, crawling across his face and spilling onto the desk. She jumped up; her feet tangled and she fell, landing hard on her butt. Spiders surged across the floor, and like a shot she was up and running for the door, bursting through it and staggering into the hallway. She was crying now.

"Leni?"

She turned, and Lori was there, her face pinched in concern. "What's wrong?"

Without a word, Leni threw her arms around her big sister and sobbed into her chest. "Leni...what happened?" Lori asked, and hugged Leni.

Being in her big sister's arms made Leni feel safe and protected. She calmed enough to speak. "H-H-He spit spiders at me!"

Lori threaded her fingers through Leni's silky blonde hair. "Who spit spiders at you?"

"F-F-Freddy!"

Lori stiffened. "Freddy?"

Leni nodded.

"Are you sure it was him?"

"Yes!"

"Did he look like –"

Lori held Leni at arm's length, and Leni screamed when she saw that it wasn't Lori at all, but Freddy.

"– This?"

She tried to pull away, but Freddy held her tight, his knives digging into the soft flesh of her upper arm. He leaned in. "You know what, Leni?" he asked.

Leni wept.

"I wanna kiss you."

He opened his mouth, and his tongue came out. Hairy spider legs jutted from it, and big black eyes stared from the tip. Leni wailed, and when it slipped into her mouth, she jerked up and screamed, startling the entire class. She threw her hands up and shook her head back and forth as hot tears burst from her eyes. When a hand touched her, she howled.

"Leni!" Gabby Johnson, her friend, said. "Leni, calm down!"

Leni buried her face in her hands and cried, her entire body shaking. "Leni..." Gabby trailed off. "Leni, you're bleeding."

Four slash wounds rent her smooth skin, but she didn't notice, nor would she have cared. All she could think about was that awful, yucky spider tongue slipping into her mouth.

* * *

Lincoln's eyes darted nervously around the cafeteria, as if he would glimpse Freddy standing in a corner, his arms crossed and a hateful smile on his face. Next to him, Ronnie Anne coughed, and he jumped with an exclamation.

"What's _with_ you today?" Ronnie asked, squinting.

"N-Nothing," Lincoln said, and smiled nervously.

Ronnie Anne eyed him suspiciously. He _had_ been acting weird...he knew that, and he was trying _really_ hard not to, but after the events of that morning, could anyone blame him for being a little antsy? He unconsciously rubbed the spot on his arm where Freddy's marks had long since faded.

He was back.

Some way, somehow, Freddy Krueger was back. After seeing the marks on his arm, Lisa sat him down and had him go over his dream in excruciating detail; his voice broke when he described the way his sisters came after him, and all of them hugged him and rubbed his back and swore they'd never hurt him...they loved him.

"Freddy gashed your arm?"

Lincoln nodded miserably.

"With force?"

Lincoln nodded again. Lisa grabbed his wrist and studied the marks. "It doesn't make sense," she mused, "he did the same thing to me last year, and the wounds were so deep I had to give myself stitches."

"Maybe he's weak," Lucy said. "A creature like him thrives on fear."

Lincoln remembered Freddy's words and gulped. "He said fear makes him powerful."

Lisa pinched the bridge of her nose. "Alright, fear makes him stronger. If we simply stop being afraid..."

Lori snorted. "Really, Lise? You think we can just stop being afraid?"

The little girl considered her words. "Perhaps not. I hate to admit it, but I'm scared as well. However, we can minimize our fear with drugs."

"Yeah?" Lori asked. "Forever? The moment we stop taking your drugs, he's going to come right back. We can't stay doped up forever."

"We won't be 'doped up' forever," Lisa said, frustration edging into her voice. "Only long enough for us to come up with a way to stop him."

"Uh, we did that already," Lola said, "and look how well _that_ worked out."

What if they could _never_ beat him?

That thought had been weighing heavy on Lincoln's mind all day: Freddy was unstoppable and would kill them all one-by-one...probably saving him for last just so he could suffer the terrible fate of watching all of his sisters die. He didn't think he could take that...if it was going to be that way, he hoped Freddy killed him first.

"...outer space," Ronnie Anne was saying.

"Huh?" Lincoln asked, turning to her.

She sighed, her nostrils flaring. "See? Your head's in outer space. What's the deal? If there's something wrong, tell me. I wanna know. I mean...I'm here for you." Her face turned red and she looked away.

"I'm sorry, it's nothing," he said, "I just have some stuff on my mind. You know...Luna and Luan."

Ronnie Anne nodded in acquiescence. She knew how hard Luna and Luan's deaths had hit him and his family; it was a sore subject and he didn't really like to talk about it, which she respected.

"Talking always helps me," Clyde said from Lincoln's other side. He had long given up trying to talk to his friend and had contented himself with eating his lunch.

"Not me," Lincoln said. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he took it out. "I just need..."

He trailed off as he read Lori's group text.

 _Leni had a dream and she got cut but she's okay._

Cold fear gripped his heart. He started to reply, but his thumbs were jittering so badly that he hit every button but the ones he wanted, so he simply slipped it back into his pocket and stared into space. This was _not_ good. He hoped Lisa's contingency plan worked...and that none of his sisters fell asleep before they could put it into action.

When the bell rang, he carried his tray to one of the big trashcans by the counter and then dragged himself to his next class, where he sat in the back and fought the worry gnawing at the lining of his stomach. How could they stop him? Apparently dragging him out of the dream world and into the real one, lynching him, and burning his body wasn't enough. What _else_ could they do? Pulverize his bones and blast them into space? Douse him in holy water?

 _You can't stop him,_ Lincoln thought with grim finality. Freddy was invincible. You could kill him seven or eight times, and he'd just keep coming back. _Freddy always gets what he wants, and what he wants is us dead_.

A shiver ran through Lincoln's body, and his stomach gurgled sickly. There _had_ to be a way. But what _was_ it?

Maybe they _would_ have to stay drugged forever.

 _Stop thinking about it...you're giving him what he wants: Fear._

Oh, it was too late for that. This morning he barely left a mark on Lincoln's arm; after that, with the fear of seven sisters, he actually made Leni _bleed_. If he could make someone bleed, all hope was lost: He was back, and there was nothing they could do to stop him. They might as well tuck their heads between their legs and kiss their asses goodbye.

He was starting to hyperventilate now. He closed his eyes and took a series of deep breaths. _Lisa knows what she's doing,_ he told himself. _She's got this, have faith and stop being such a pessimist_.

Yeah, kind of hard to not be a little pessimistic when there's an undead serial killer after you, and he strikes in your dreams, and you killed him but, hey, now he's back and ready for round two.

Kind of _really_ hard.

* * *

It was Rita's day off, and after she put Lilly down for a nap, she had nothing to do. Oh, there was always housework to be done, but unless it was pressing, she'd rather put if off. She felt groggy after her early rising, and had the energy for little more than relaxing. In the living room, she dropped onto the couch, kicked her feet up on the coffee table, and turned the TV on. Being noon, the news was on, and she watched it with drooping eyelids. A fire here, a tornado there, Donald Trump this and Colin Kapernick that. Yawn.

She went to change the channel, but the remote was gone. Hm. She ran her hands along the couch cushions, but it wasn't there. She checked _in_ the cushions. Nothing. Maybe it fell. She slipped off the couch and knelt between it and the coffee table. Still, she did not see it. She lifted the fringe to peer underneath, and froze. Luna's skeletal face stared back at her, her flesh gray and tattered and her once soft, brown eyes cold and glazed with death.

" _Hi, Mommy,"_ she said, and scuttled closer. Rita was petrified, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open. _"Looking for this?"_ she held up the remote.

A hand fell on her shoulder, and she screamed, spinning and falling onto her back.

" _It's just me, Mom,"_ Luan said. She loomed over Rita. She was wearing the dress they buried her in. Her skin was gray and mottled and her eyes shone a cat-like yellow. She grinned, and her teeth were jagged.

Luna's arm shot out from under the couch and grabbed Rita's wrist. Her touch was cold and slimy.

 _This isn't happening...this isn't happening..._

Luan knelt and smiled coldly. _"We've been dead a long time, Mom, and we're sooooo hungry_. _"_

With a scream so powerful it made her head throb and her vision blur, Rita pulled away from Luna and shoved Luan out of the way. Shaking and crying, she staggered to her feet and stumbled around the couch, her back hitching and her knees weak.

The door exploded open, and Rita moaned when she saw him in the doorway, one hand on the knob and the other on the frame. He was tall with a hooked nose and icy blue eyes, his dirty blonde hair shrinking back from his forehead and his mouth a tight, angry slash. He was dressed in a red and gray bowling shirt and tan slacks. He glared at her, and Rita dropped to her knees.

"I-I didn't..."

He came into the living room and shut the door behind him, his eyes never leaving hers. "You told," he said.

Rita shook her head. "No...I swear..."

He came forward, and she screamed. His hands wrapped around her throat and squeezed: They were rough and calloused. Her air supply was cut off, and her heart blasted in panic. She clawed at the backs of his hands: He took one away and slapped her so hard she went limp.

"You've been a bad girl," he hissed through clenched teeth. "That's why I killed your slut daughters."

The world was starting to go gray, and she knew she was going to die. Images of her children flashed through her mind as darkness stole over her.

At the last moment, Freddy let go and slapped her again.

She woke up screaming, the side of her face hot and stinging...


	4. Between Realms

A dark tension hung over the Loud house; Lincoln felt it as soon as he came home from school.

Since the high school let out earlier than the elementary school, Leni and Lori were already home. Usually they were in the living room watching TV when Lincoln, Lucy, Lana, Lola, and Lisa came through the door, but today the living room was empty and eerily silent.

Lincoln started up the stairs, and his younger sisters followed somberly behind like a funeral train. At Lori's door, Lincoln knocked, and when she called out for him to come in, he turned the knob.

Leni was sitting against the headboard of her bed, her knees hugged to her chest and a haunted look on her wan face. Lori sat beside her, her arm around the younger girl's shoulders. Lynn was sitting at the foot of the bed, her feet firmly on the floor and her hands nervously rubbing the tops of her legs. When everyone was in, Lincoln closed the door.

"Where's the injury?" Lisa asked as she crossed to the bed.

"Left arm," Lori muttered.

Lisa climbed up onto the bed and examined the jagged cuts on Leni's arm, restlessly adjusting her glasses. "They aren't very deep," she said with a sigh, "scratches, really, but if Lucy's hypothesis is correct and he is getting stronger from our fear, this does not bode well."

"What are we going to do?" Lori asked helplessly.

"I have a plan in place," Lisa said. "I was _hoping_ I would never have to use it."

"What is it?" Lynn asked over her shoulder.

"It's a device...a modified heart monitor, really. There is one for each of us. It monitors heartrate, and if it exceeds a certain predetermined level, it sends an electric shock through a set of electrodes that quite literally shocks you awake."

Lori's brow furrowed. "So...if our heartrate gets too high...like we're scared...it'll wake us up?"

"Yes," Lisa said. "It's not ideal, I suppose, but it's all we can do at this juncture."

"Sounds good to me," Lana said.

"I just hope I can still get my beauty sleep," Lola said.

Lisa shook her head. "I doubt you will. More than likely, you'll be woken a dozen times in a night. You'll be groggy and short-tempered...but alive."

"Good," Lincoln said.

Lisa nodded. "Indeed. In the meantime, we must formulate a plan to fight him. We know that bringing him into the 'real' world renders him powerless, but getting to him is dangerous. I have an idea, but I'll need time to execute it. A day or two. Perhaps less."

Lori looked around the room. "Alright, no one fall asleep without Lisa's device. I don't care how tired you are. Got it?"

Everyone nodded and murmured that they did.

When the meeting broke up, Lincoln went to his room and sat on the edge of his bed. _Fear makes me powerful_. If that was true, Krueger was getting more and more powerful all the time. He was afraid, Leni was afraid, Lori was afraid, everyone was afraid, you could see it on their faces and in their eyes. Fear, Lincoln once read, is the strongest and oldest of mankind's emotions, and the strongest and oldest kind of fear is fear of the unknown. Krueger, for all intents and purposes, was the Unknown with a capital 'U." They knew his backstory: He molested and murdered eight children in the town of Springwood Ohio between 1984 and 1987, was arrested, freed from jail on a technicality, and was then burned to death by an angry mob. They knew that he could enter your dreams, and control them. Beyond that, he remained a mystery...why he was targeting them in the first place was also a mystery.

Lincoln sighed. He needed to stop thinking about it. A walk. He needed a walk. He checked his phone, saw that he had an hour and half of daylight left, and got up. The park was a half mile away: He'd go there then back. Hopefully it would clear his head.

He started to stand, but sat again when a knock came at the door. "Yeah?"

No one came in.

"It's open!"

Nothing.

He got up, went to the door, and opened it. The hall was empty, save for Leni, who stood at the other end by the bathroom. When she heard the creak of his door, she turned. "Did you knock on my door?" Lincoln asked.

"No," she said.

"Did you see who did?"

She shook her head. "I wasn't paying attention."

Hm.

Oh well. If it was important they wouldn't have run away.

Having no time for ding dong ditch, Lincoln went downstairs.

* * *

Laundry...gotta love it. When Mom and Dad first put her in charge of washing, drying, folding, and putting away the clothes (a big job, even if no one thought it was), Lori was horrified by the idea of handling everyone's dirty underwear. Oh, shirts and pants and stuff were okay (though socks were kind of gross), but underwear? Yuck! Not only were underwear filled with disgusting crotch sweat and, like, private parts stink, but she had younger siblings, which meant skid marks. Those are the worst.

Or so she thought.

Then puberty settled into the bones of the oldest Loud girls, and suddenly she was dealing with panties stained on the front end. Her own were gross enough, but someone else's?

Over time she got used to it, and tonight, October 9, she carried an overflowing laundry basket down the rickety basement stairs, sat it on top of the dryer, and transferred the clothes into the washer by hand without a single thought. Of course, her mind was on other things, so that helped: Compared to Freddy Krueger, even the nastiest underwear is a treat. Specifically, she was thinking about Luna and Luan, and though she wasn't aware, her eyes were leaking. Their absence was a constant ache in the back of her head, and she rarely allowed it to come forward, save for on their birthdays and on Christmas. Those three days were the hardest, and not just for her but for everyone.

This whole business with Freddy pushed the loss of her sisters forward, and all day she'd been thinking of them and missing them terribly: What she wouldn't give to hear one more of Luan's awful puns, or one more riff on Luna's guitar. It's the little things like that that you take for granted until they're gone, a person's quirks and annoying habits. She used to hate it when Luna would shred her ax so loud the walls shook; she would cover her ears and shake with barely suppressed rage. Now, looking back, she sorely regretted not going and sitting in front of her sister to listen.

She drew a watery sigh as she added a capful of detergent to the washer and slammed the lid. She reached for the knob, but behind her, something clattered to the floor and she jumped, whipping around. The basement was narrow and dimly lit, deep shadows nesting among rows of boxes and bins. Her heart started to race even though she knew that something had simply fallen over; the stacks were so haphazard that it was a wonder any of them were still standing.

 _Get a grip, Lori,_ she told herself. She leaned against the washer and pulled out her phone to find a text from Bobby, which made her smile. She started to reply, but something moved in her periphery, and she jerked her head up, the phone falling from her hands and striking the concrete floor.

Okay, _that_ wasn't nothing.

"H-Hello?"

A voice in her head screamed at her to get out of there. Instead, she pushed away from the washer and took a tentative step forward. "W-Who's there?"

No one replied.

She was standing at the mouth of a row now, boxes rising up on either side. She leaned forward and fisted her hands against her chest: She was _not_ going to go any further. "Lynn, if that's you it's not funny."

She waited a moment, then sighed. She was getting herself all worked up over nothing. She started to turn away, but something scraped against the floor, and her heart leapt into her throat. Suddenly, something streaked across the floor and crashed into her foot; she jumped back with a scream.

It was Luna's guitar.

Lori herself put it away because no one else could bring themselves to go through the dead girls' room. She packed it lovingly in a box and placed it at the bottom of a stack so it wouldn't fall and get damaged. What was...?

The back of her neck prickled, and a cold draft washed over her. The side of her face tingled, and a dark voice spoke into her ear: _"Wanna jam?"  
_

Lori screamed, dodged to her left, and flew up the stairs, falling near the top and crawling the rest of the way, a long, terrified wail ripping her throat asunder. Behind her, the basement rang with the sound of Freddy Krueger's amusement.

* * *

Lucy knew a lot about the dark arts. She knew how to read tea leaves, tarot cards, and the stars; she knew how to properly use a crystal ball; she knew, by heart, a dozen spells for love, happiness, and revenge; she knew how to correctly use a spirit box – a special radio that was adjusted to constantly scan through channels and pick up the voices of spirits in the white noise.

One thing that she was not too familiar with was automatic writing, a process whereby a medium sits before a sheet of paper with a pen in their hand and allows spirits the use of their arm to produce written messages. She had tried it only a few times in the past, but nothing ever happened: She sat blankly at her desk with the tip of a pen poised over paper for nearly an hour, beseeching and imploring the spirits to use her. Tonight, she sat at her desk with a sheet of lined, college-ruled paper staring back at her and a felt-tipped pen gripped in her right hand. The overhead light was off in favorite of a desk lamp, which cast a soft, warm glow across Lucy's work space.

She wasn't sure this would work, but she figured she'd give it a shot: Doing something that didn't work felt a whole lot better than sitting there and doing nothing at all.

"Frederick Krueger," she intoned for the seventh or eighth time in the past ten minutes, "I offer you my arm. Speak to me."

In automatic writing, the medium retained enough control that if they asked the spirit a question, the spirit would have to answer truthfully, or vacate the arm. Why, Lucy did not know: She had read a number of theories, a lot of which had to do with God and the Ten Commandments.

"Speak to me, Freddy...speak to me."

Nothing happened, and Lucy sighed. Maybe she'd have more luck with her Ouija Board. She started to get up, but her arm suddenly went stiff and fell heavy against the table. Her heart jumped, and behind her bangs, her eyes widened slightly. She sat firmly and waited until her arm was jerked as if by an unseen force, and the tip of the pen mashed against the paper. She watched in a mixture of horror and wonder as she began to write.

 _It's working,_ she thought, amazed, _it's actually working._

Her hand flew across the paper, then was swept aside. She read the message and frowned.

FUCK YOU BITCH.

Her mind raced. Freddy, as far as they knew, existed in a type of subconscious dream world, and could only access you when you were asleep. Lucy was certain she was not asleep...sleep did not come easy to her, and never had. Maybe her siblings could nod off in the shower or at their desks in school, but she could not. Deep down she knew her attempts to contact Freddy would be in vain...but here he was, communicating with her...which meant...

"Where are you?" she asked.

Her hand jerked across the paper.

FUCK YOU BITCH RIGHT BEHIND YOU.

The back of Lucy's neck pricked and she turned, but saw nothing...though come to think of it, the temperature in the room _did_ seem to have dropped several degrees...which indicated the presence of a spirit.

Lucy swallowed hard. "Are you a spirit?"

FUCK YOU BITCH YES AND NO.

"If you are really here, prove it to me."

The bedroom door slammed and she jumped. Jesus Christ, he was a spirit in their house! "Are you in the dream world too?"

GO TO HELL YES.

"Why are you targeting us?"

ASK YOUR WHORE MOTHER.

Lucy blinked at those four words. Her mother? What did her mother have to do with this?

"You're too weak to hurt us in either world...right?"

HERE FOR NOW BUT FALL ASLEEP HAHAHAHA.

Lucy opened her mouth to ask another question, but her arm suddenly went limp as Freddy left her, and a rush of wind seemed to wash over her.

He was gone.

When she heard Lori screaming, she cried out in shock.

* * *

Lincoln sat in the swing next to Ronnie Anne and stared into the gathering gloom: The streetlamps lining the sidewalk were beginning to blink on, and he only then realized how late it was.

After he left the house, he aimlessly wandered in the direction of the park, his hands shoved deep into his pockets and his eyes scanning every house, rock, and tree and commenting on them. _Little pink house, huh? Sounds like a song. Whoa, look at the lipstick on that cigarette butt; it's a Winston, lady, not your boyfriend. Hey, nice El Camino, guy; where's your mullet?_

Anything to get his mind off of...you know who.

When he reached the park, he started to turn back toward home, but a familiar voice called out to him. "Yo, lame-o!" He spun and saw Ronnie Anne sitting on one of the swings. She waved, and he waved back, a goofy grin spreading across his face. He liked Ronnie Anne, and had for a long time. Unfortunately, she was into being tough and junk, which meant, apparently, things like love and romance and simply _liking_ someone were out the window. Well...he knew she liked him, but she resisted every subtle attempt he made to move their relationship forward. He'd been telling himself for nearly a year that she would come around, but he was beginning to think she never would.

He walked over and dropped into the swing next to her. "Fancy meeting you here," he said.

She shrugged. "Eh, it's either this or the arcade, and I'm all arcade'd out. You?"

"I just needed to talk a walk," he said. "Clear my head."

She nodded slowly and glanced away, finding something in the distance to look at. "You feeling better?" she asked.

"Kind of," he said, and stole a furtive glance at her, studying her smooth jawline, her proud chin, her soft, smooth cheeks, her adorable freckles. He grinned. He sure wasn't thinking about what's-his-face anymore. "It's just...you know...that time of the year," he said, and technically it wasn't a lie. Luna and Luan _did_ die in October.

"Yeah, I know," Ronnie Anne sighed, "and, uh, I'm sorry. I can't imagine what it's like. I mean, if I lost Bobby..." she trailed off and shook her head.

Lincoln nodded. "Yeah, it's rough. I miss them every day." His mind turned to his dead sisters, and he had to shove the visions of their faces away lest he start crying.

For a long time they sat in silence, both enjoying the other's company. Presently, Lincoln glanced at her. "I have to go. It's late."

"Alright," she said, "I'll walk with you."

They both got up and walked through the deepening dusk. "You ready for that math test tomorrow?" she asked by way of conversation.

"No," Lincoln replied, and after a moment they both laughed. Math was Lincoln's worst subject, along with science. He was great at history and okay at English, though. "You?"

"Damn right I am," Ronnie Anne said. She was very good at math _and_ science. She was okay at English but sucked at history. It's almost like they were two halves of a whole, Lincoln thought. "I'm bringing home at least a 95, guaranteed."

"Me too...if you switch the numbers around."

She giggled. "59?"

"If I'm lucky."

"Dude, you're gonna flunk the sixth grade."

Lincoln looked at her and arched his brow. "Didn't you get a 45 on the last history test?"

Ronnie Anne pursed her lips and turned her beautiful brown eyes on him. "Alright," she said, " _we're_ gonna flunk the sixth grade."

"As long as we do it together, I don't really mind."

She blushed and turned away, a tiny grin forming on her lips. "Yeah," she said, "it won't be so bad."

They reached his house just as the last light of day drained from the sky. They turned to look at each other. "I guess I'll see you in school tomorrow," she said, and put her hands in the pockets of her hoodie. Lincoln stared into her eyes, then glanced at her soft, pink lips. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and each day not having her was a miserable day.

"Yeah," he said, and sighed. "Have a good night."

"You too," she said.

They both turned away, Lincoln starting across his front yard. His heart ached and he suddenly felt like she was slipping away.

He stopped and turned. "Ronnie?"

She stopped too. "Yeah?"

Throwing caution to the wind, Lincoln went to her, took her face in his hands, and kissed her, smooshing his lips against hers. She went rigid with shock and tried to pull away...then she melted against him and kissed him back, her tongue prying his lips open and dancing into his mouth. His fingers slipped into her hair and he swooned at her warmth, her closeness, her clean smell filling his nostrils.

When he pulled back, her eyes were shinning and the corners of her mouth were turned up in a daffy smile. He caressed her cheek and kissed the tip of her nose. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Lincoln," she said.

He turned and walked to the front door, a grin plastered to his feet and his feet barely touching the ground. When he hit the porch, his phone buzzed in his pocket and he took it out.

When he saw Lori's text, his good mood evaporated.

"Emergency sibling meeting," it said, "now."


	5. The Shocking Secret

**What's a horror sequel without a major retcon? If you've read the first story and remember incredibly minor details, you'll know that Freddy Krueger, as a flesh and blood serial killer, was active between 1964 and 1967. For this story, I moved the timeline up twenty years so that he was active between '84 and '87.**

* * *

Lincoln found all of his sisters gathered in Lori's room. Lori was pale and trembled slightly, and when Lincoln saw her, he instantly knew that something had happened. "What's wrong?" he asked worriedly.

Lisa adjusted her glasses. "Apparently Krueger is not only in the dream world but in ours as well."

For a moment Lincoln processed her words. "W-What do you mean?" He glanced at his oldest sister, and her eyes were pooled with fear. She took a deep breath and told them about what happened in the basement, the tension in the room increasing exponentially. As she spoke, everyone glanced nervously at each other, terror written across their faces.

"So...he can get us when we're awake?" Lynn asked.

"No exactly," Lucy said. She ran through what happened during the automatic writing session. "He's somehow in both worlds at once. Here he's a spirit and while he has enough strength to slam a door, he can't hurt us. Yet. It takes a _lot_ of energy for a spirit to cause harm to a human being. They can slam a door, but they can't slam it on your finger."

"That makes very little sense," Lisa said.

"And Freddy does?" Lucy asked.

The genius sighed. "Point taken."

"How long until he _can_?" Leni asked.

"I don't know," Lucy said. "Like I said, it takes a _lot_ of energy."

Lynn shook her head. "Alright, well, we need to come up with a game plan _now_. The longer we sit around playing with ourselves, the stronger this asshole gets. Lise...you mentioned some kinda plan. What is it?"

Sighing, Lisa put her hands on her hips and began to pace. "The last time around, you and Lincoln went into the dream world together. I figure that if the energy created by our combined fear can sustain Krueger, perhaps our combined psychic energy can defeat him. I'm developing a machine that will allow all of us to tune in, as it were, to the same brain wavelength so that we can share the same dream. I need time. As I said. Until then, the heart monitor will have to do."

Lucy cleared her throat. "Freddy said something during our session that...here." She went over to Lori and handed her the paper. The older girl read the conversation, her eyes widening.

"Who does he mean by asking Mom?" she asked as she passed it to Lynn, who read it with a similar reaction.

"I don't know," Lucy said, "but I think she knows something about Freddy."

"Then let's talk to her," Lynn said and jumped up.

"Not so fast," Lisa said, "if we're going to talk to her, we should wait until after dinner, and only one of us should approach her."

Everyone nodded their agreement except for Lynn. She was fired up and she wanted to act _now_.

At dinner, each of them stole glances at their mother. She looked strange: Her skin was sallow and doughy and dark bags hung under her bloodshot eyes. When Lola dropped her fork, she jumped and glanced around as though she were afraid of something coming up behind her.

After dinner, the siblings met in the hallway, and it was agreed that Lisa would talk to their mother about Krueger. It was an unenviable task, one that she did not look forward to undertaking, but she didn't trust any of the others to properly handle the situation. It was 6:30 when this meeting took place, and Lisa gave herself an hour to work on the machine she hoped would allow her and her siblings to share the same dream. Alone in her room, she sat before it and lost herself in its mechanizations. When she broke to use the bathroom, she saw with a start that it was nearly nine 'o'clock.

First, she passed the heart monitors out to her siblings, as it was getting late. She demonstrated to each how it worked: Simply flip a switch and attach the electrodes to your temples. When your heartrate elevates to a certain level, a small electric charge will be delivered to your brain, waking you.

Downstairs, she found her mother stretched out on the couch, sleeping in the soft glow of a lamp. A glass of wine sat on the coffee table along with a number of photographs and albums. Sometimes, their mother indulged in looking at pictures of Luna and Luan, and wound up reminiscing about her entire history. In the kitchen, Lisa could hear her father moving around.

Sighing sadly, Lisa walked up to her mother and stared down at her. _If only I'd come down when I planned to_ , she thought. She turned to the table and scanned the pictures. She saw Lincoln and Lynn, Luna and Leni, Luan and Lori, herself as a baby, birthday parties, Christmases, Halloweens, an open yearbook. Lisa leaned over the latter when she glimpsed a much younger version of her mother, and several rows down, a much younger version of her father. LYNN LOUD read the caption under his smiling face. Lisa's eyes flicked up, and her heart stopped mid-beat. Behind her, her mother began to murmur in her sleep.

"No...I...I didn't tell..."

Lisa read and reread the name under her mother's photo.

RITA KRUEGER.

"No...Uncle Freddy...don't..."

* * *

In her dream, Rita was a little girl again, standing in the strange room. Unlike the previous dream, this one was more realistic, lining up more perfectly with her waking memories. It was the summer of 1985 and she was six-years-old. Her mother sent her to her Uncle Freddy's house to borrow his iron as theirs had broken. She knocked on the door, but no one answered. He worked at night, so maybe he was asleep, she thought. She tried the knob, but it was locked. That was okay, though; the basement hatch didn't lock. She walked around the side of the house, opened it, and went down the stairs into the dusty darkness. She was a brave little girl, and was not afraid.

She emerged in the sun washed kitchen. The floor was yellow linoleum and popped under her feet. The appliances were strange looking, old and boxy. Light yellow curtains hung in the window over the sink.

The first place she looked was in her uncle's bedroom, but the bed was empty and neatly made. She then looked in all the other rooms on the second floor, but they were all deserted. Back in the living room, she paused and looked around. Maybe he wasn't home. She went to the head of a hallway, and at the end she saw a door. Windows lined the walls, letting in warm late afternoon sunlight. She walked to it and knocked lightly. Getting no response, she opened it and walked in. The space was small and cramped, a workbench flanking the far wall. Above it was a pegboard upon which hung an assortment of strange _things_ that Rita had never seen before. Cocking her head curiously, she went to it and looked up. They were gloves, each with knives and other sharp things attached to their fingers: Nails, screws, long, thin pins. On one side of the pegboard were three picture frames. Rita could not read very well, but she could read the big, black newspaper headlines well enough: CHILD MISSING, one read; SECOND CHILD KILLED, said another.

Though she couldn't say exactly why, Rita was starting to get scared. She turned to run, but gasped when she saw Uncle Freddy in the doorway, his cold blue eyes boring into her and his mouth an angry squiggle. He was dressed in dark pants and a red and green striped sweater, the cuffs pushed up to his elbows and revealing his hairy, muscular forearms.

Rita's terror overcame her, and she started to cry.

Uncle Freddy glared at her for a long time before he came forward, moving with slow deliberation, his stare never wavering. Rita cried harder.

"Rita," he said in a soft, admonishing tone, "you're not supposed to be in here." He knelt in front of her and touched her face with a rough, clammy hand.

"I-I'm sorry," Rita sobbed. "P-Please don't hurt me."

Uncle Freddy laughed in that dark, hissing way of his, his fingers twirling a strand of her blond hair. "I won't hurt you, honey," he said, "if you make me a promise."

"W-What?"

He grinned coldly and leaned forward until the tip of his nose was touching the tip of hers, his hot, foul breath puffing against her quivering lips. "Don't tell."

Rita nodded. "I-I won't...I won't tell, Uncle Freddy, I _promise_."

He smiled and patted her cheek. "You're a good girl, right?"

She nodded again.

"You're going to listen to your Uncle Freddy?"

She nodded as hard and fast as she could.

"Good," he said, then leaned in and pressed his lips to her ear, "because if you don't, I'll cut your tummy open." His tongue flicked out and lashed her earlobe.

Rita cried all the way home, and her mother yelled at her for not getting the iron, even though Rita told her Uncle Freddy wasn't home. Six months later, her father took a job in the town of Royal Woods, Michigan, and she never saw Freddy again...until the press coverage surrounding his arrest and death. She was a good girl and never told, even later, but he thought she did...he thought she told on him, and he came in her dreams.

Presently, she was sitting on the couch and looking at photos, a glass of wine forgotten in one hand. The front door opened, and she looked up: With a start, she saw Uncle Freddy, and the glass fell from her hand and landed on the carpet. He was different. His face was blistered and burned, and his eyes were yellow and sick like the eyes of a dying panther. He wore a dark trench coat over his sweater and a dirty brown fedora. He grinned and held up his right hand to reveal that he was wearing one of those awful gloves.

"Hiya, Rita," he said, and shut the door behind him. "I'm baaaaack!"

Rita's mouth worked in a silent scream.

"You told," he said, stalking toward her.

Rita shook her head. ""No...I...I didn't tell..."

Freddy nodded slowly. "Yes you did," he said. "You told and they hurt me. They hurt me, Rita."

He held his gloved hand aloft and spread his fingers with a cold, metallic sound. Rita shrank away, her back connecting with the arm of the couch. Freddy jumped onto the other arm and glared down at her. "You've been a bad girl, Rita, a _very_ bad girl."

"No...Uncle Freddy...don't..."

He jumped onto her, and in that moment she sat bolt upright, a scream tearing from her throat. Lisa started and fell back against the table, knocking it aside as she went down. Lynn Sr. rushed into the room, a dishtowel in his hand. "What's wrong?"

While he comforted his wife, Lisa held her hand to her forehead.

They were related to him. Christ in heaven that thing haunting their dreams was _family_.

* * *

"He's _what?"_ Lori asked, her face paling. They were all clustered together in Lisa's room, Lisa sitting in her computer chair and her siblings standing in a big group. Lisa sighed and handed Lori the yearbook. She snatched it, looked at her mother's picture, and sagged.

"Frederick Krueger is, apparently, our great-uncle," Lisa said. "I don't like it any more than you do, but it's a fact. This would explain, partially at any rate, why he chose to target us in the first place. In her sleep, Mom said 'I didn't tell,' which leads me to believe that she may have been aware of his crimes when he was alive."

Everyone was silent as they processed the new information. "We're _related_ to that thing?" Lynn asked after a moment. She was cold inside.

Lisa nodded. "Unfortunately."

With a _humph_ , Lola crossed her arms. "He is _not_ invited to my birthday party."

"Can we use this to our advantage?" Lincoln asked.

Lisa sighed. "I doubt it. Unless we remove all of the genetic material we have that matches Krueger's, thereby _un_ relating ourselves from him which could, theoretically, spare us his wrath."

Hope swept the faces assembled before her. "I was being sarcastic," Lisa said, and the soaring spirits of her siblings crashed back down.

Lucy started to speak, but the door slammed open and a cold wind gushed into the room; everyone screamed and jumped, Lynn leaping into Lincoln's arms, Lola and Lana hugging each other, and Leni covering her eyes as though she would be safe as long as she couldn't see any threats, dangers, or hazards.

The wind died down, and the lights began to flicker on and off, seemingly in a conscious pattern. Lisa looked up, and followed along, her lips moving. "What is it?" Lori asked fearfully.

"It's Freddy, isn't it?" Lucy asked.

"It's Morse Code," Lisa said.

"For what?" Lincoln asked, still holding Lynn. They were both white-faced and trembling.

Lisa followed along until the flickering stopped, then sighed. "'Fuck you.'"

The lights began to flicker again, this time for longer. "He says to tell Lola that her birthday party would probably suck...if she lived to have it, which she won't."

"Leave us alone!" Lori yelled. "Go back to hell!"

The lights flickered again.

"He says he will once he's killed us all one-by-one."

The door slammed closed, and the chill permeating the room slowly dissipated. Lucy let out deep breath. "He's gone."

Lisa sighed. "I'm going to attempt to expedite the completion of the machine. Until then, return to your rooms and put the monitors on."

When Lisa was alone, she turned to machine, but froze when the lights began to flicker once more. For a long time afterwards, it rang through her head as if he had actually spoken it aloud.

 _Good luck, bitch._


	6. A New Nightmare

Ronnie Anne Santiago had never been happier in her life. She grinned all the way home, and several times found herself skipping along the sidewalk like a little girl. When she caught herself, she would stop and walk more carefully, but as her mind turned back to Lincoln and the kiss they shared, she would do it again. She probably looked like a weak, mushy-gushy little girl, and as she bounced into her front yard, she realized she didn't care.

At dinner, she was smiling so widely that both her mother _and_ Bobby commented on it. "I'm just happy," she said, hoping they'd drop it but knowing they wouldn't. At least her mother wouldn't. "I know that look. It's a boy, isn't it?"

Ronnie Anne shook her head, but her blush gave her away.

"You and the Lincmeister finally going steady?" Bobby teased. He was done with his plate and sitting back in his chair, his arm draped over the back. "It's about time. I thought you guys were gonna play cat-and-mouse forever."

She simply shrugged.

Mom took a drink from her glass. "Lincoln's a very sweet boy, and that's hard to find these days."

"Hey," Bobby said with faux offense, " _I'm_ a sweet boy too."

Mom patted his hand. "I said hard, not impossible."

After dinner, Ronnie Anne showered then went into her room. She wasn't sure her feet were actually touching the floor, and that was fine. Everything was right with the world: She and Lincoln were together and she was so _excited_. She'd liked him for a long time, but she just couldn't make the first move. Maybe she took being 'tough' a little too far (or a lot too far), but hey, that's who she was. She silently waited for him to make the first move but didn't actually expect him to do it: She figured she would have to work herself up to it, which could take some time. Sitting a boy down and saying, "I really like you" might be a simple matter for some people, but not for her. She was...well...she learned a long time ago that you had to be tough, because if you weren't tough, people would hurt you and take advantage of you.

But Lincoln...he wasn't like that. He was kind and good and selfless to a fault. He was the most beautiful boy she had ever known, and she was so happy to call herself his girlfriend.

She stretched out on her bed and put her hands behind her head. She couldn't wait to see him tomorrow. Yawn. Maybe she'd get up early and go over to his house so they could walk to school together; they could hold hands and bask in each other's closeness. Yawn. Her heart went pitter patter at the thought. She –

Something thumped against her door and her head whipped in that direction, her brow furrowing. "Yeah?" she called out, but got no response. She shrugged and went back to thinking about Lincoln, but it came again, and she sighed, got up, and went to it, turning the knob and pulling it open. "What –?" the words died on her lips when she saw what was before her: A wide room with rows and rows of seats falling away like trees dotting a downward slope. At the head of the room was a giant screen playing an action movie trailer: A car exploded and flipped over, the driver ejecting and rolling across the pavement. She blinked, but the vision remained. Uhh...when did we get a movie theater in our house?

All of the seats were occupied, and as she floated down the aisle, she saw everyone she knew. Her mother, Bobby, kids from school, the kids she hung with before she moved from Detroit, Flip, Lincoln and his sisters, and a thousand other faces that she recognized but could not place.

 _What's going on?_ she asked herself, her heart beginning to race. She took a seat in the front row and craned her neck up at the massive screen as it went blank, plunging the room into darkness. Then, the opening credits of a movie began to roll: She saw herself walking to the park that afternoon, her hands shoved into the pockets of her hoodie. Text appeared. STARRING RONNIE ANNE SANTIAGO.

Her brow furrowed. Huh?

Then the title appeared. MUSHY-GUSHY GIRLY LOVE: A FREDDY KRUEGER FILM. Ronnie Anne's heart clutched as she saw herself waving Lincoln over as she had earlier. He sat next to her and they began to talk. Was she really blushing _that_ hard? And was her voice really _that_ nervous?

The scene changed to one of her and Lincoln standing in front of his house, their lips locked together, his hands in her hair and her back arched, her knees shaking and knocking together.

Everyone started to laugh then, loud, braying, mocking and cruel. Ronnie Anne's face burned and she slumped in her seat. On the screen, Lincoln said, "Goodnight." She responded with a gushy, "Goodnight, Lincoln," and everyone lost it even more. She was humiliated...and angry.

Balling her fists, she jumped up and fixed a deadly glare on the crowd behind her. "I like him, so what?"

They laughed harder, some of them waving her off, others bent forward and clutching their stomachs.

"Shut up!" she cried, her voice breaking. Hot tears came to her eyes. "Stop laughing at me!"

Someone threw a box of popcorn at her, and it struck her in the face. She stumbled back with a cry, and a fountain drink exploded against her chest, soaking her hoodie. Other things came, candy, trash, a tomato that splattered against one of her shoes. She threw her arms defensively up and fell back, but someone caught her and spun her around: Her heart seized when she stared into the horrible burned face of a nightmare apparition. Its eyes were yellow and its teeth were a sickly rotten black. It wore a hat and some kind of Christmas sweater. "Awww...isn't young love _beautiful?_ "

Ronnie Anne screamed and tried to pull away, but the creature held fast. He snickered and puckered his lips. "Oh, Lincoln," he said, but it was her voice that came from his lips, "you make my heart skip and my stomach flutter. I'm _so_ in love with you." She screamed again and yanked: The monster let her go, and she fell, landing with a cry against her bed. Gasping and trembling like a frightened puppy, she drew her knees to her chest and hugged them tight. _What's happening? WHAT'S HAPPENING?_

She screamed when she saw the monster standing on the far wall, his back and his knees bent. "Hey, Ronnie Anne!" he cried, then, impossibly, walked up the wall and then scuttled across the ceiling, his body upside down like some kind of terrifying bat in repose. "You ever play skin the spic?"

He reached out with cold, steely fingers and grabbed Ronnie Anne's hair. She screamed and thrashed as he pulled her off the bed, her fingers clawing at his hand and splitting open painfully as they mindlessly grazed the blades.

In the real world, Ronnie Anne screamed as she lifted off her bed and levitated above it. She spun, and the back of her shirt shredded as four unseen claws raked across, tearing cloth and flesh. She wailed in pain and kicked her legs, her head wrenching back and forth and bloody wounds appearing across her left cheek. The door banged open and Bobby rushed in, pausing when he saw his sister floating, his eyes widening. "What the fuck?"

Ronnie Anne spun violently, her feet connecting with the side of his face and knocking him back against his mother. The door slammed, and Ronnie screamed again as she struck the ceiling and was dragged across, leaving a wide trail of blood. In her dream, she kicked against Freddy, but he only laughed and swiped his claw across her leg, sending bolts of pain into her head. He grabbed her ankles and whipped her around: Her head crashed into the edge of her dresser, and red flashed across the backs of her eyelids. He whipped her again, and she crashed against her nightstand, knocking her lamp and alarm clock onto the floor.

Bobby frantically pounded against the door and screamed her name, his mother crying hysterically.

"Hey, Ronnie," Freddy said, grabbing her by the throat and pressing her against the ceiling; his feet were on either side of her, his back arched in a U, "you ever hear the saying about butterflies in your stomach? How about we see, hmmmm?" He brought his claw up, and Ronnie Anne's eyes widened as it flashed down. When it plunged into her stomach, she gasped, and blood burst from her mouth, splattering Freddy's face. He licked his lips, and smiled. Her face was paling and the sparkling light in her eyes was going dim. "Ummm...I just _love_ Mexican food."

"F-Fuck you," she managed through quivering lips.

Crying himself now, Bobby threw his shoulder against the door and it exploded open, the frame breaking. His sister was plastered to the ceiling, blood gushing from her mouth and a gaping wound in her stomach. He yelled her name and tried to climb onto the bed, but jumped back with a cry when a hole opened in the middle of it. _What the fuck?_

As he watched, she went limp and dropped, falling in even as he frantically reached for her. She screamed as she disappeared...then a geyser of blood shot up, and that's when he and his mother both fainted.

Freddy's dark laughter echoed through the room.

" _I'm back!"_


	7. The Dream Master

**STR2D3PO: Two classic kills for the price of one.**

* * *

Lisa paused, poured herself another cup of coffee from the thermos, and took a long swallow. It was starting to get cold, but that didn't matter...nothing mattered but getting this goddamn machine up and running.

It was sometime past midnight, and she had been working since coming upstairs from the living room around 9:30. She was starting to get drowsy, but she had to finish it...tonight. Just an hour, maybe two...that's all she needed. She sat her screwdriver down, picked up her cup, and took another sip. She set it aside and took a deep breath, her eyelids beginning to droop. Damn it. She got up, went over to the window, and pushed it open, cold night air caressing her face and waking her. Good. She went back to her stool and sat. As she worked, she went through her plan again and again. It seemed only right that if their energy could affect Krueger one way, it could affect him another.

An idea struck her, and she examined it from all angles. She didn't see why it couldn't work.

She would have to test it, though, which meant...

No. That was foolish. The risks were too high.

The reward, though, would be knowing how to confront him when she and her siblings went into the dream world. As it was now, they were flying blind; aside from pulling him into the real world (which didn't work the last time), they had no idea how to fight him. She worked faster, hoping to outrun the thoughts swirling in her head, but they caught up to her, and she knew she could not leave this stone unturned. She put the screwdriver down, went over to her bed, and laid down. She turned on the heart monitor and attached the electrodes to her temples. She turned a knob and set it so that it wouldn't shock her when her heartbeat reached a certain rate, but rather after a set amount of time. Twenty minutes.

 _I hope this works._

She closed her eyes and felt herself drop into sleep within minutes. In her dream, she was at a science convention: The best and brightest minds in the world were packed before a stage waiting for her to speak. She stood behind the podium and read her notes.

 _It's a dream,_ she reminded herself, _a dream, a dream, a dream, a dream._

She opened her mouth to speak, and Leni's voice issued forth: "Like, this is _totes_ the most fab day of my life."

Lisa's heart sputtered. Dear God!

The assembled looked at each other and began to mutter questioningly.

"Like, one time, I got stuck in my sister's crib and I couldn't get out because I thought it was a baby jail. LOL!"

The confused din grew louder. _Just a dream...just a dream...I'm not_ really _making a fool out of myself in front of the people I admire most._

"My favorite color is Zebra and math is _totes_ hard."

A man with wide tufts of white hair on either side of his bald head jumped forward and pointed a crooked finger at Lisa. "This girl is an obvious mental defect!" Everyone voiced their agreement.

 _Ha, at least I'm not wearing a red and green striped lab coat._

Lisa's eyes widened when she realized she recognized those colors. She bared her teeth, mustered all the energy she could...and took control of the dream.

"Krueger," she said into the microphone, and the man's face darkened.

"I know it's you, you son of a bitch."

The man rippled like a desert mirage and changed into Freddy Krueger. He wore his trademark sweater and hat. His brow furrowed angrily.

Lisa grinned. "That's right, Krueger. This is _my_ dream." She pointed at him, and lightning shot from her fingertip: It struck Krueger and he flew back with a scream. Everyone gasped and back away. Krueger recovered, and winked out like a light. Lisa's heart clutched, and then burst when he spun her around to face him, his lips peeled back from his rotting teeth in a hateful sneer.

"It might be your dream," he said, "but it's _my_ rules."

He brought the glove up, then down. Lisa blinked, and when the blades touched her stomach, they pushed limply against her. Krueger looked taken aback. He held his hand up, and the knives hung uselessly like soggy noodles. "Rubber," Lisa said with a grin.

Flashing, Krueger backhanded her, and she fell into the podium, knocking it over and dropping onto her butt. For a second he loomed over her, huffing in rage, then he grabbed her by the throat and dragged her face to within inches of his. She could smell his fetid breath, sickly-sweet like the aroma of burned flesh. "You think you can beat me, little girl?"

Lisa's vision started to go gray, and she thrashed against his grip.

He drew her close and opened his mouth. When Lisa saw the deformed head of a snake in place of his tongue, she went rigid. It poked out, then –

She jerked awake, her skull buzzing with electricity. Baring her teeth against the pain, she yanked the electrodes off and sat up.

 _It_ worked, she thought as she fought to catch her breath. _I was able to use my mental energy to manipulate the dream._ It worked quite well, too, until Krueger started choking her. Expending mental energy is not the easiest thing to do when you are being strangled.

If she could do that on her own, imagine what she could do with seven of her siblings by her side! They could end this.

Tonight.

Filled with renewed vigor, she got up and went to her lab, where she sat on her stool and began working on the machine. In an hour, she was done.

* * *

Lynn Loud walked through the halls of Royal Woods Middle with her gym bag slung over her shoulder. She was looking forward to practice that afternoon, and...something to do with a restaurant later on; for some reason she couldn't quite remember what it was. They were going out to eat or some damn thing. She hoped it wasn't to one of their nasty smoothie vegan juice places that Leni liked so much.

In homeroom, she dropped into her seat and sat her bag on the desk. "Hey, Lynn, wanna hear a joke?"

Lynn sighed and threw her head back. "No, Luan, I don't." She glanced at her sister who sat in the next seat over. Her eyes were big and doe-like, and for some reason that filled the jock with fury. "I hate your stupid fucking jokes and I hate you! Die!"

Luan flinched, then turned away, tears dropping from her eyes.

 _What the fuck? Why did you blow up like that? You made her cry!_

She didn't know, but while she was utterly ashamed of herself...a very deep part of her _liked_ it. She blinked, and she was in the backyard with Lincoln. He was standing about fifty feet away with his hands in the air. She threw a football, and it hit him square in the nuts. His hands flew to his crotch and he dropped to his knees with a breathless cry. She laughed and walked over. "You're supposed to catch it with your hands, dipshit." Tears streamed down Lincoln's face and he tried to speak, but he cried out again when Lynn kicked him in the stomach.

 _Stop!  
_

The sight of him lying there and shaking like a pathetic kitten made her sick, and even though she begged and pleaded her foot not to, it lashed out again, connecting with his nose, which burst like an overripe tomato. She wept as she did it. _I'm sorry, Linc, I don't mean it!_ "White haired cocksucking stupid piece of faggot dumb shit!"

Next, she was in the kitchen eating a power bar when Lilly toddled in. When Lynn saw her, she groaned inwardly. _No! Run, Lilly, you're not safe around me!_

Lilly dropped onto her butt in front of Lynn and looked up at her. "Poo-poo."

Lynn reared back her foot and squeezed her eyes closed as she shot it forward: She could see through her eyelids, and watched in horror as Lilly flew back and slammed into the cabinet, falling to the floor, her neck twisted and broken.

"Hey, bro," Luna said as she came into the kitchen, "lookin for some grindage." She opened the fridge and bent in. When Lynn's eyes fell upon the knife on the counter, her heart stopped. _No, please..._

Despite her protests, her traitorous legs carried her to it, and her treasonous arm reached for it, her fingers closing around the handle and lifting it up. She closed her eyes as she went to Luna, but as with Lilly, she could still see: She watched the knife flash up, then arch down and sink into Luna's hunched back.

" _STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWP!"_ Lynn screamed, and the vision fell away. For a while she floated in darkness, then she was standing in the backyard, a football in her hand. Across from her, his arms in the air, was Freddy Krueger. "Throw the ball, Lynn!" he said. "I'm open!"

Lynn blinked.

Freddy.

Freddy Krueger.

The man who killed Luna and Luan...the man who was even now trying to kill her brother and her sisters...the sick, pervert son of a bitch with the knife-fingers and the burned face.

Hot rage filled Lynn, and she threw the ball as hard as she could. It screamed through the air and hit Freddy's normal hand so hard it ripped it from his wrist. "Aw, goddamn it!" he screamed, bending over and gushing green blood onto the ground. Savage satisfaction filled Lynn. "You stupid bitch!"

"That's right, motherfucker," Lynn growled.

Freddy fell to his knees and rocked back and forth. Another ball appeared in her hand, and she cocked it back. Freddy's eyes went wide. "Don't you _dare_ , Lynn Loud!" Lynn twisted. "I'm warning you, young lady! Listen to your Uncle Freddy!"

The ball left Lynn's hand and tore through the air like a bullet. Before it hit, Freddy held up his glove, and five blades shot forth, sailing toward Lynn. Her heartbeat quickened and –

 _Bzzzzzz_

Lynn sat up, her brain tingling and her hands jerking. What the hell was happening?

 _Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz._

She grabbed the wires and pulled the electrodes off, flopping back against the pillow and fighting to catch her breath. By the clock on the nightstand, it was almost two in the morning. She sighed, then smirked at the memory of Freddy's terror.

* * *

Lincoln Loud, defender of the city, stood perched on a rooftop high above the street, his shoulders hunched under the weight of responsibility. It was up to him and him alone to bring justice to the mean streets of Liberty City, and though it was an overwhelming task, it was one that he undertook gladly: Someone has to stop the evil villains who pop up in every issue!

Presently, a cry of alarm rang through the night, and Lincoln came alive, scanning the street below and spotting an old lady fighting being pursued by a mugger. With a swish of his cape, Lincoln leapt and sailed down to the sidewalk, landing just behind the scumbag.

"Hey, you," Lincoln said, and the mugger turned; his nose was hooked and his eyes were pale blue. He wore a toboggan and a dark trench coat. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size?"

The mugger's face darkened. Under his coat, he wore a red and green striped sweater. Lincoln recognized it and who it belonged to, but fear did not touch him, for he was LINCOLN LOUD: THE AVENGING AVENGER. He sidestepped Freddy, and drove an elbow in between his shoulder blades, knocking him off balance and nearly to the ground. Freddy spun, his face burned and melted now. He threw himself at Lincoln, but Lincoln smashed him in the face with a crushing blow. A speech bubble with the word POW! appeared. Freddy flew back and landed on the sidewalk. He shook his head, got up...and ran away.

Lincoln threw his head back and laughed. He didn't even break a sweat. Why, his heartbeat wasn't even elevated.

"That was _amazing!"_

Lincoln turned, and there she was, Ronnie Anne Santiago of the _Daily Newspaper_. Lincoln's heart fluttered and a hazy smile touched his lips. She wore a purple skirt and a purple blouse, her shiny black hair held back by a purple scrunhie.

"All in a day's work," Lincoln said.

Ronnie Anne stepped forward, a seductive smile on her lips. "Ummm...I think you deserve a reward."

Lincoln laughed heroically. "A reward? What kind of reward?"

Ronnie Anne stepped into his arms and stood up on her tippy-toes, her lips hovering inches away from his. "This," she said...

Her face morphed into Krueger's, and Lincoln's heart blasted.

 _Bzzzzzzz_

He sat up with a scream and immediately pulled the electrodes off, his heart slamming in his chest. A knock came at his door, and he jumped. Was he still dreaming? Was it spirit Freddy?

It opened, and in a spill of light from the hall, he saw Lori's face; relief flooded him. "Linc," she whispered.

"I'm up," he said.

"Good," she said, "come on. Lisa wants us in her room _now_."

Lincoln blinked. Now? He glanced at the clock on his nightstand. It was 3am. "Alright," he said, and swung his legs out from under the covers. What did Lisa want at _this_ hour?

He went to find out.


	8. Dream Warriors

**Lyrics to** _ **Let it Rain**_ **by Eric Clapton (1970)**

* * *

They gathered in Lisa's room, eight pale faces with tired eyes. Lisa stood in front of the door and waited for her siblings to get situated before beginning, her hands clasped behind her back. Lori was the first to speak: Strands of her hair stuck out at odd angles and her eyes were red. "What is this about?"

Lisa took a deep breath. "First, has anyone had a Freddy dream tonight?"

Lynn raised her hand. "I did." She snickered. "I kicked his ass. Well...he won, but not really."

Nodding, Lincoln said, "So did I. Kind of...until he tricked me." Lynn held up her hand for a hive five, and Lincoln slapped it.

Lisa hummed appreciatively. "I also had a physical confrontation with Krueger, one in which I had the upper hand until he began strangling me." She lifted her head, and her brother and sisters gasped at the ugly purple fingerprints bruising her flesh. "I am okay. Better than okay, in fact. I have completed the machine...far ahead of schedule, and after testing my theory, I can confidently say: We can manipulate the dream world to our advantage."

She paused to let her words sink in. "I propose we enter the dream world and confront Krueger now. If we wait, he will only grow stronger."

Every face in front of her paled slightly. Lana and Lola looked at each other and gulped; Lincoln rubbed the back of his neck; Leni crossed her arms protectively over her chest...the only one to not show any trepidation was, of course, Lynn, who simply nodded with determined finality. "Alright," she said, "let's do it."

Lisa looked at her other siblings. "Are the rest of you as prepared as Lynn and I?"

No one said they were...they also didn't say they weren't. Lisa crossed to the machine, which sat on the table, and plugged it into her computer. She waited for it too boot up, keyed in the information she needed, and waited for the wavelength equalizer to stabilize. "Everyone lie on the floor," she said, "as close as possible. Side-by-side is preferable." She attached seven sets of electrodes to the machine then turned to see that all of her siblings were lying on the floor, ready despite the fear on their faces. She attached electrodes onto each of her siblings' foreheads, then her own. She grabbed a bottle from her desk drawer and shook out a pill for each of them.

"This is a fast acting sedative," she said as she handed the first pill to Lynn, who plopped it into her mouth and swallowed, "it's chewable, if you like. It tastes like bubblegum."

Lola, Lana, and Leni all opted to chew, Leni making a happy "Ummm" sound. Lincoln was second to last (Lisa saving the final for herself). She handed him the pill and asked, "Are you ready for this?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

Lisa popped the last pill into her mouth, and stretched out next to her brother. "Remember," she said, "this is our dream. We can control it. Krueger might have powers, but together, we are far more powerful than he is. In fact, I dare say..."

"...we are..." Lisa trailed off. She and her siblings were standing in a group in what Lisa could only describe as a Martian landscape: Blasted red soil stretched for as far as the eye could see. Twisted figures loomed from the darkness, and it took Lisa a moment to realize they were trees and not approaching monsters. The sky was dark, and jets of fire shot up here and there from the ground. She sniffed, and gagged at the smell of death and burning flesh. Moans, screams, and lamentations seasoned the stale air. Someone gasped, and she turned to Lynn, whose face was white. She squeezed her eyes closed and crossed her arms.

"Where are we?" Lori asked, looking around.

"Hell," Lynn said, her voice barely above a whisper, "we're in Hell."

A sound attracted Lisa's attention, and she was endlessly horrified to see a figure half-buried in the sand, everything below its chest covered.

"Grandma Harriet?" Lucy asked.

The thing did look like their great-grandmother, now that Lucy mentioned it. Whatever it was hissed and spat, its clawed fingers reaching. Leni moaned and the twins hugged each other, both of them trembling with fear. "Alright," Lisa said, pulling her eyes from the ghoul and turning them to her siblings, "everyone imagine we're in my bedroom. Close your eyes, picture it, whatever you have to do."

Everyone closed their eyes. Lisa pictured her bed, Lilly's crib, her lab...and when she opened them, they were all in the middle of the room. Lynn sighed with relief. "Good," Lisa said, "now I want each of you to imagine yourself as...I don't know, strong, powerful. Lincoln...be a superhero, Lynn...a professional wrestler. Whatever you want."

Lori sighed. "That's _literally_ the dumbest idea I've ever..."

Like a wind-swept mirage, Lincoln shimmered, and when he cleared, he was wearing black tights, a black cape, and a black face mask. His arms, legs, and chest were bigger and more defined. He glanced down at himself in wonder. "Whoa."

Snickering, Lynn said, "That's awesome. Let me try." She closed her eyes, and began to shimmer too. When she was done, she was nearly seven feet tall with bulging muscles. She wore camouflage pants, combat boots, an olive green tank top, and a red bandanna around her forehead. A bandolier crossed her chest, and a gigantic machine gun that Lisa suspected was a .50 was slung over her back. "I'm Rambo, bitches," she said.

"Oooo!" Leni cried, "me next!" She closed her eyes and transformed into...

"A unicorn?" Lori asked. "Really?"

Leni was indeed a horse...with long blonde hair and a purple horn jutting from her forehead. She looked down at herself and gasped. "Oh my God, I'm beautiful!" She galloped in a wide circle and giggled.

Lana closed her eyes, and suddenly held a machine gun in her hands. She aimed it at the wall and pulled the trigger. Impossibly, oversized red wrenches shot out and ripped through the sheetrock. "Alright!"

Lola closed her eyes, and a wand appeared in her hand. She tapped Lana's head with it, and it shrank. "Hey!" Lana cried, sounding like one of the Chipmunks, "change me back!" Lola laughed and tapped Lana's head again, and it returned to normal size. Lisa shot her a stern look, and Lola smiled sheepishly. "Sorry."

Turning to Lucy, Lisa saw, without surprise, that she was wearing a witch's hat and a black dress. "I'm also a vampire," she said. She opened her mouth and showed Lisa her fangs. Lori squeezed her eyes closed, and opened them to find herself holding a bazooka.

"Nice," she said, "that bastard won't know what hit him."

"Is that so?" Freddy asked. Everyone gasped and spun in circles looking for him. "Over here, kids."

The voice was coming from the crib. Lori aimed her bazooka, Lola her magic wand, Lynn and Lana their machine guns, Lucy her splayed fingers, and Lincoln a small black device that reminded Lisa of a taser. When Krueger popped up, everyone froze. It wasn't him at all, but Lilly. She was wearing a tiny red and green striped sweater and a fedora. She leaned one arm against the railing and regarded them with malevolent eyes. "Isn't this nice?" he asked. "My loving family."

"Fuck you, asshole!" Lori cried and pulled the trigger.

Click.

Krueger laughed. He bent down and held up a strange looking shell. "Looking for this?"

Lana and Lynn both pulled the triggers of their machine guns, and loud gunfire filled the room. Screaming, Krueger ducked, and the scene suddenly changed. They were in what appeared to be a wide boiler room. The scene changed again, and all of the Loud kids found themselves alone.

* * *

Lynn was back in hell, the tormented wails of the damned rising around her. Her heartbeat quickened, but she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and reminded herself that she was in control. This was _her_ dream. Krueger was just a pest, like a cockroach. She opened her eyes. Dead trees and rock piles dotted the land. Lynn held her .50 up and started moving forward, bent slightly at the waist. Her boots kicked up red dust, and she absently wondered if it was the ground up bones of dead sinners. Where were the others? Call it a feeling, but she didn't think here. Krueger must have split them up. To be honest, that didn't bother her. She wanted that son of a bitch one-on-one.

At an outcropping of rock, she knelt and scanned the land ahead. More of the same. An idea struck her, and she closed her eyes, picturing an iPhone with a blinking green dot on it, and it appeared in her hand. She held it up. A blinking dot was indeed on it, only instead of being solid green, it was striped red _and_ green. The words FREDDY TRACKER 2000 were emblazoned across the top of the screen. She studied it, and found her dot (a picture of her smiling face). Freddy was ahead and to the left, moving slowly. Ha. Got your ass.

Moving at a crouch, she left the outcropping and headed west, soon finding herself among the ruins of an old stone building; rubble was strewn across the ground. She ducked behind a blasted section of wall and checked the Freddy Tracker. He was ahead and to the right. Hehhehheh. C'mon, Freddy.

Suddenly, the Freddy Tracker went dark. What? Piece of junk!

"Ha!" Freddy roared behind her. Heart in throat, she whipped around, her finger already depressing the trigger. Freddy did a sick backflip and disappeared behind a pile of debris. Lynn jumped to her feet and went in fast and low, ducking around and aiming the gun.

He was gone.

"Over here, bitch!"

She turned, her eyes widening when she saw the duel Uzis he was wielding. Fire leapt from the barrels, and she dove behind the rubble, Freddy's bullets hitting the ground with little puffs of dirt. Freddy laughed uproariously as he raked the Uzis back and forth. Lynn threw her back against a slab of concrete and waited for the fire to cease. "What's the matter, Lynn?" he called. "Are you chicken?"

"Fuck you!" she called.

"Bwok-bwok-bwok!"

"Eat a dick!"

"Lynn Loud's a pussy!"

That was it. She ducked around the pile and brought the gun up, pulling the trigger. Freddy dropped behind a half wall, her bullets pinging off of it.

When she stopped firing, an eerie silence hung over the ruins. She closed her eyes, pictured a pineapple grenade, and found one in her hand. She pulled the pin out with her teeth and threw it overhand. It fell behind the wall, and like a shot Freddy was running away, his claw hand holding his hat against his head. Lynn aimed and fired as the wall exploded in a shower of debris. Freddy disappeared behind another wall, and she cursed. Goddamn it! "Stop running, you coward!" she cried, and darted over to the wall, flattening herself against it.

"Throw down that gun and fight me like a man," Freddy said. He sounded relatively close. Throwing caution to the wind, Lynn jumped around the corner and opened up: Freddy jumped high into the air and dove for her. She raked the gun up, but missed, and he crashed into her; the .50 flew from her hands as she hit the ground. In a flash, the claw was up and arching down, five wickedly sharp blades glinting in firelight. Reacting on instinct, Lynn grabbed his wrist, stopping him. His eyes widened, and she grinned. "Come on, little man," she said, "not as strong as a girl?"

He gritted his teeth and tried to force his hand down, but Lynn held it back. "You're a bitch," she spat.

Freddy's eyes flashed dangerously.

"I bet you have a small dick, too."

He slapped her with his free hand, and she simply laughed. "In my dream, I'm strong," she said, and twisted his hand; it snapped with a satisfying crunch, and he fell back with a scream. Lynn sat up and pulled a knife from her belt. Terror crossed Freddy's face and he shook his head.

Lynn nodded.

"Live by the blade," she said, crouching and readying herself to leap, "die by the blade."

She jumped, but Freddy vanished into thin air, and she landed on empty ground, a cry of frustration ripping from her throat.

* * *

Lola was on a stage, looking out over a sea of faces. The spotlight was warm against her skin, and she could hear the rustle of people's clothes as they shifted in their seats, the clearing of throats, someone coughing. Lindsey Sweetwater, Lola's arch-rival, stood by the curtain with her arms crossed over her chest, a look of annoyance on her face.

"Do something!" someone called from the audience.

Should she dignify him with a response? He was a dream, after all...not real. His opinion and what he wanted didn't matter. No one's did, not even Lindsey, since she wasn't the _real_ Lindsey; all that mattered was finding that weirdo Krueger, turning him into a little bitty bug, and crushing him under her heel. She smiled widely at that thought.

Lindsey sighed. "You are the _worst_."

Lola gritted her teeth and reminded herself that it wasn't Lindsey, wasn't anyone. "You're awful, and you're ugly." Alright, that was it. Lola turned, waved her wand, and grinned when Lindsey turned into a toad. A gasp ran through the crowd...then they began to clap and cheer. Lola turned and bowed.

Just then, a door in the back of the auditorium banged open and a man rushed in. "Sorry I'm late," he said. Lola squinted against the glare of the lights, and saw with a start that it was Krueger. He was wearing a long trench coat and a hat. "I was busy killing her sister."

Lola's heart skipped a beat. Krueger was in front of the stage now, his hands on his hips. "Now it's your turn, bitch." He jumped onto the stage, and Lola stumbled back. He held up his right hand and spread his claws.

Remembering her wand, Lola pointed it at him, and a ball of pink energy shot out, striking him in the chest and sending him back with a scream: He fell off the stage and crashed to the floor, and the crowd went nuts. "That's what happens when you mess with a professional," she said, and blew against the tip of the wand like it was the barrel of a gun.

Freddy pulled himself up over the edge of the stage, his head and chest poking up. "And this is what happens when you mess with me!" He pointed one knife at Lola, and a red-and-green energy ball struck her in the shoulder, searing her flesh and burning the fabric of her dress. She screeched and jumped back, the wand dropping to the floor. Freddy threw back his head and laughed. Thunderous applause rose from the crowd.

After the initial burst of pain, Lola got mad. She balled her fists, bared her teeth, and started to shake. Freddy pointed at her and laughed even harder.

"You burned my dress," she said through clenched teeth.

"Welcome to the club, toots!"

Fire filled Lola's chest, and suddenly everything started to get...smaller. Freddy's eyes widened and his neck craned up as Lola grew. Five feet. Ten. Fifteen. Fifty. Her eyes blazed with malice and she showed an evil, gap-tooth smile.

"Oh, shit," Freddy panted.

"Come here, Freddy!" she thundered, the world shaking. Freddy jumped down from the stage and streaked up the aisle, holding onto his hat and screaming as he went. Lola came after, each footstep a massive earthquake. Plaster fell from the ceiling, and people in the audience screamed as she crushed them under her feet.

Freddy bolted through the door and Lola crashed through the wall behind him in an explosion of building material. She was trembling as raw _power_ surged through her. She felt strong, she felt invincible.

She spotted Freddy running across a vast, grassy field and gave chase, stopping and blinking in confusion when he simply disappeared. "Humph," she said, and crossed her arms. "Wussy."

Just then, the earth ahead of her opened up, and Freddy rose up...if she was fifty feet, he was a thousand, his body towering into the heavens like an undead skyscraper. Lola looked up, but couldn't see his face; she gulped.

"You know what my favorite Brothers Johnson song is?" Freddy asked, and lifted one titanic foot. "Stomp!"

Waving her arms and screaming, Lola ran. Behind her, Freddy laughed, and a shadow fell across her as his foot came down. She couldn't run fast enough; she was dead meat!'

Just before the foot dropped, she had an idea, and squeezed her eyes closed.

Freddy brought his boot down with a gleeful shriek...that turned to a shriek of pain. He yanked it back, and Lola had turned into a giant pink thumb thumbtack with eyes and a mouth...a mouth that laughed as he danced back, green ichor oozing from the bottom of his foot. He fell hard on his ass, and the world shook. "You bitch!" he roared, then froze as Lola grew. She was a million feet now. He glanced up, but couldn't see over the Mount Everest that was her big toe.

"I'm out," Freddy said, snapping his fingers and disappearing.

"I win!" Lola screamed, and clawed her hands, "I win!" Her laughter rolled forever and ever.

* * *

Lincoln stood on a grassy hill overlooking an empty, litter strewn beach. Dirty gray water lapped at the shore. In the bay, a red and white striped lighthouse sat upon a rocky island. He took a deep breath of salty air, and let it out slowly. When he first realized he was alone, he was in the Callahan Point neighborhood of Portland, Liberty City's industrial section, the massive Callahan Bridge above him. From there he walked north through Atlantic Quays, The Red Light District, and finally into Saint Mark's, where he was now. All the while, he was on the lookout for Krueger, expecting him to jump out of an alleyway, a door, or from behind a dumpster. He was so caught up in his search that he barely noticed the way people passing in the streets watched him with a mixture of fear and awe, some of them whispering things like, "It's the Avenging Avenger..."

 _Where are you, Krueger?_ he thought, his hands on his hips. Liberty City was comprised of three islands: Portland, Staunton Island, and Shoreside Vale. Krueger could be anywhere. Lincoln figured that he would come to him eventually, but he was getting sick of waiting. He wanted the undead child molester's ass in a sling, and he wanted it now.

"Lincoln!"

Lincoln spun, his cape swishing around him, and saw Lisa crossing the street. His body tensed and his eyes narrowed. Was it really her...or was it another one of Krueger's tricks?

"It's me," she said, walking up. When Lincoln cocked his eyebrow, she explained, "My 'super power,' as it were, is reading minds...among other things."

Touching his chin, Lincoln said, "I don't know. You might be Freddy."

Lisa rolled her eyes. "You know, on my end there's a good possibility that _you_ might be Freddy, and all the thoughts I'm reading are Krueger deceiving me."

Sighing, Lincoln crossed his arms. "Fine. Let's say you're not. What are you doing here?"

"Well," Lisa said, "once I realized he split us up, I closed my eyes, called up a picture of your face, and wound up at a gas station down the hill."

Lincoln blinked. "You were in Harwood."

"I don't know where I was. What is this place, anyway?"

They were standing side-by-side and staring out at the water. "Liberty City," he said, "the most crime-ridden city in the world."

"Hm," Lisa said, "that would explain the man I saw driving a black-and-white police car down the sidewalk, mowing down pedestrians."

Lincoln's stomach clinched. "Pedestrians? I have to stop him! I am –" here he put his hands on his hips and thrust out his chest – "The Avenging Avenger! Protector of Liberty City!"

"You're also a doofus," Lisa said, "this is a dream, Lincoln. Those people aren't real. This city isn't real. That red and green striped lighthouse isn't..."

She trailed off and they looked at each other. When a hand fell on their shoulders, they jumped.

"Ah, smell that sea air!" Freddy said.

Lincoln spun and threw a cross-punch, but Freddy jumped back and ducked, punching him in the stomach and knocking him back. "Come on, Lincy," Freddy said, gesturing with his hands. Lincoln's eyes were hard and his mouth a tight slash. "Avenge your slut sisters."

" _Don't call them that!"_

Freddy laughed. "They suck cock in hell, Lincy. They –"

With a shriek of rage, Lincoln crashed into Freddy and knocked him to the ground, his hands wrapping themselves around the monster's neck. Freddy brought his claw up and raked it across Lincoln's face. He wailed as blood gushed. Freddy heaved him off and jumped to his feet, his eyes falling on Lisa. "Come here, little girl," he said, and took a step forward, but Lincoln jumped onto his back and wrapped his forearm around his neck.

"Leave her alone, you piece of shit!"

Freddy yelled, and threw himself back, pinning Lincoln against the ground. He broke Lincoln's hold and tried to straddle him, but Lincoln's feet crashed into his stomach, and he fell. Lisa narrowed her eyes and trained them on Krueger's head. He screamed and rose up to his knees, his fingers clawing at the sides of his face as his skull began to swell. Like a light switching off, he was gone, the sound of his scream lingering.

"Goddamn it," Lisa muttered. She looked up at Lincoln, who was sitting on his ass and panting heavy, his face oozing blood. "Are you okay?"

He nodded and jumped up. "Yeah, I'm fine. Where did he go?"

"Away," Lisa said tightly, "like the coward he is." She closed her eyes and called up a vision of Freddy. He was, surprisingly, in a land of sunshine and rainbows. "He's going after either Lola or Leni," she said.

"Let's go after him!"

Lisa opened her eyes. "Alright, we just..." from her periphery, she saw something moving. She turned to see a man in green pants and a black leather jacket coming around a corner, an AK-47 in his hands. Her heart jumped. "Lincoln..."

Lincoln glanced in the man's direction and tensed. The man saw them and lifted the rifle. "Get down!" Lincoln cried, knocking Lisa to the ground as the AK spoke. Screams rose up from pedestrians. Lincoln laid atop his wiggling sister, shielding her body from bullets. When the gun went silent, he jumped up and rushed the guy. A flamethrower appeared in his hands, and he pointed it just as Lincoln slamming into him. Lincoln pulled back his fist and smashed it into the man's face, shattering his nose. He hit him again, and he went unconscious.

"Come on, hero," Lisa said sarcastically behind him, "let's go."

* * *

Lori and Leni walked side-by-side through a grassy meadow dotted with flowers. The sky was a soft purple and a bright rainbow arched through the heavens. Leni giggled and trotted in wide circles, her tail swishing and her hair streaming behind her. Lori looked warily around, anticipating Krueger but instead seeing happy leprechauns holding hands and dancing, kicking their legs out in unison while singing some kind of Disney song. Lori rolled her eyes. Leni frolicked through the daisies, dropping to her side and kicking her legs with a laugh. "Isn't it _totes_ great?"

Shaking her head, Lori said, "Your dream is so sickeningly sweet it's giving me a toothache."

"This isn't _my_ dream," Leni said. "I've, like, never seen this place before in my life."

Hm. "Whose dream _is_ it, then?"

They got their answer a few minutes later when they crested a hill...and spotted Lucy spinning in a circle with her arms out and her head tilted back, a shower of sunshine and flower petals falling over her. Light, happy music played from seemingly nowhere:

 _The rain is falling through the mist of sorrow that surrounded me  
_

 _The sun could never thaw away the bliss that lays around me_

 _Let it rain, let it rain,  
_

 _Let your love rain down on me._

Lori's jaw dropped, and Leni giggled. Lucy stopped and looked at them, her tiny smile dropping. For a moment they simply faced each other. "I can explain," she said.

Lori crossed her arms and looked around. Puffy smiley face clouds, a happy sun...she laughed. "Wow, this is like _literally_ a preschool show."

"K-Krueger sent me here," Lucy said. That was a lie. Krueger originally sent her to one of the worst places in her memory bank: Luan's funeral. When she realized where she was, she was powerless to do anything but walk up to her sister's coffin, touch her cold face, and cry. After _that_ , she needed something light and happy...so here she was.

"Whatever," Lori said as she as Leni walked over. "Where _is_ he?"

"Right here, bitch!"

All three girls turned as Krueger lifted up from the tall grass. He wasn't a man this time around, but a giant red and green...

"Spider!" Leni cried, and reared back on her hind legs. Krueger scuttled forward on long, slender legs coated with prickly hairs, and Lori jumped back. Lucy lifted her hands, spread her fingers, and shot electricity at him. It struck him, and he cried out. It wasn't enough to hold him back, though; he started toward them again.

"A little help?"

Lori blinked, and was holding another bazooka. She pointed it and fired: The shell exploded from the breech and slammed into Krueger's face in a puff of fire. He drew back with a scream, then surged forward again. Sweating now, Lori aimed at one of his legs and jerked the trigger, screaming in triumph when the round hit and blew the leg clean off. He fell, his body landing in the dirt. Lori glanced at Leni; the unicorn girl's head was down and her horn jutted out. "I hate spiders!" she cried, and shot forward, galloping hard. Krueger's eyes widened as she thrusted her head up and plunged her horn deep into his guts.

He exploded like a nuclear bomb, and for a moment all was dark, and cold. Then, a scene rushed forward like headlights through a tunnel. All of them were together now in a bedroom: Lori, Leni, Lucy, Lynn, Lola, Lana, Lincoln, Lisa. Before them was a mattress soaked with blood. Two men in suits stood over it, their hands on their hips. Lincoln's heart clutched when he realized where they were: Ronnie Anne's room.

"What'd they say?" one of the men asked.

The other shook his head. "The mom's hysterical. They had to sedate her. The brother's not much better. Said something about her floating around and wounds just...appearing."

The first man looked at the second, his brow arching.

Ronnie Anne lie in the middle of the bed, her arms thrown out and her once warm, brown eyes cold and clouded with death. Everyone gasped, except Lincoln: He couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't think. Lisa's hand touched his back. "It's not real, Lincoln."

"Oh, but it is!" Krueger's voice was all around them, coming from everywhere...and nowhere. The lights flickered, and things were different. Ronnie Anne was lying in bed, asleep. Freddy was standing above her in his coat and hat, staring down at her. "No!" Lincoln cried.

Krueger glanced over his shoulder, then grabbed Ronnie Anne and picked her up. She uttered a frightened scream that pierced Lincoln's heart, and his knees gave out, spilling him to the floor. "Stop! Please!" she begged. As Lincoln listened, images of that afternoon flashed through his head. Her eyes shining brightly after he kissed her.

"No, please!"

The soft outline of her face as they sat side-by-side on the swings.

"Ahhhhh!"

He didn't know how, but deep down he knew it was true. She was dead.

He began to sob into his hands.

"Lincoln!" Lori cried. His sisters looked at him, and jerked. He was slowly fading away. Lynn reached for him, but her hand went through as though he were a ghost.

"Let him go," Lisa said, "he's waking up."

When Lincoln opened his eyes, they were filled and blurred with tears. He rolled onto his side and wept.


	9. The Final Nightmare

**Surprise! I usually post once a day in the afternoons to give readers a chance to catch up, but this hasn't exactly been a popular story (I didn't expect it to be – the Loud House fandom does not, on average, seem to like horror), plus, I want to post the first chapter of my story** _ **Reeling in the Years**_ **later on. I'm really excited about it and wanna get it up. So...here's the final nightmare. Enjoy.**

* * *

Rita Loud was a grown woman. Her memories were long and unbroken. She met a man in high school, she married him, they bought a house, and they had eleven children, two of which died mysteriously. They lived at 1216 Franklin Avenue in the town of Royal Woods, Michigan. She had not been back to Springwood, Ohio since 1985. She had no reason to go back. Yet...yet here she was, standing in the hallway of her Uncle Freddy's house, frozen in fear. Ahead was the door that opened into his chamber of horrors. She knew what lie beyond it...it had haunted her dreams for over thirty years...she didn't want to see it again, but her legs carried her down the shadowy corridor nevertheless. The door opened for her, and inside, she saw him bent over the workbench, his shoulders hunched. He wore his coat and hat. Rita gulped and tried to close her eyes, but her lids wouldn't budge.

Some imperceptible noise betrayed her presence, and he turned, his face a mass of burned flesh and his eyes shining yellow. He peeled his lips back over his rotten teeth in a horrible smile. "I've been waiting for you," he said, and moved away from the bench. Luna's body was stretched out upon it, naked, her stomach laid open. "I was just sitting down to dinner," he said, and dug his claws into the dead girl's guts, "care to join me?"

An unseen force pushed her into his arms, and her vocal cords unlocked: She screamed as he wrapped his arms around her and stared into her eyes. She tossed her head and wept, her hair flipping back and forth. "Poor Rita," he said with faux concern. "Two children dead...nine to die."

Rita cried harder.

He pressed one blade against her cheek and drew it down: She hissed at the sting of tearing flesh. He laughed and grabbed her chin in his hand, steadying her head and forcing her to look at him. "I won't kill you, though," he said, and leaned in, his nose brushing hers, "I'll let you suffer." He pressed his lips to hers and jammed his tongue into her mouth. She screamed, and that's when she came awake in the dark, her heart racing. She sat up and snapped the bedside light on with a trembling hand. She touched the side of her face, and when her hand came away slick with blood, goosebumps raced up and down her arm.

A noise rose from the hallway, and she started. It sounded like a sob. She glanced at Lynn, who was asleep, then to the door. It came again. Definitely a sob.

Her children!

Ignoring her own terror, she got out of bed, rushed to the door, and then went into the hall. Lincoln was sitting against the wall, his arms wrapped around his knees. She blinked and went to him, kneeling. "Honey, what's wrong?" she asked, stroking his hair.

He tilted his head up. His eyes were red and his cheeks were wet with tears...and blood. "S-She's dead," he moaned.

Rita's heart clutched. "Who's dead?"

"R-Ronnie Anne. H-He killed her."

"Who? Who killed her?"

"Freddy."

Every muscle in Rita's body went rigid. "Freddy?" she asked.

He nodded. "Freddy Krueger. Your u-uncle."

Cold horror ran through Rita's veins like ice water. She opened her mouth to speak, but words would not form. She was tingling. Why was she tingling? And why was she shivering? "W-Where did you hear about him?" she asked more sharply than she meant to.

Through his tears, Lincoln told her everything, starting with Luan's death and ending with waking up from the dream world in tears. Rita listened, her jaw dropping and the blood draining from her face. When he was done, she was colder than she could ever remember being in her life; it was a deep, internal cold that chilled her marrow and formed ice around her heart.

 _He came back,_ she thought, and shivered, _he came back for me._

She was dangerously close to losing her mind. She sighed, rubbed her forehead...then started when she realized that her children were in danger. "Where are they, Lincoln? Where are your sisters?"

"A-Asleep. In Lisa's room."

She snatched the boy by the wrist and dragged him into her second-youngest daughter's bedroom. All of her girls were side-by-side on the floor, asleep and hooked up to a strange machine that resembled a computer modem but much bigger. Rita's breath caught as she swept them with her eyes. "We have to wake them up," she said.

"No," said, "we have to end this, Mom, or he'll never leave us alone. He'll kill us all one-by-one."

Her dead uncle's words came back to her: He would kill all of her children and leave her alive to suffer. Horror filled her...but also rage.

"How did she do it?" she asked tightly.

Lincoln's brow cocked. "Huh?"

"How did Lisa do it?"

Lincoln explained to her as best he could. When he was done, she nodded. She went over to the spot Lincoln had recently occupied and sat down. "What are you doing?" he asked worriedly.

"I'm going in," she said.

Lincoln sputtered. "No, Mom, it's too dangerous, let me go."

She fixed him with a withering gaze. "Absolutely not. You stay here and _don't fall asleep_. Understand?"

Lincoln opened his mouth to protest further. _"Understand?"_

Reluctantly, he nodded. "Good," his mother said, "where are those pills Lisa had you take?"

With a sigh, Lincoln went over to the desk and rummaged through Lisa's scientific paraphernalia until he found the correct bottle. He twisted the cap and shook a pill into the palm of his hand. He handed it to his mother, and she tossed it into her mouth and connected the electrodes to her temples, stretching out next to Lisa when she was done. As she lay there, it occurred to her that she might never see her son again. "Honey," she said.

"Yeah?" Lincoln asked, kneeling next to her.

She took his hand and held it tight. "I love you."

He nodded, his eyes flooding with tears. "I-I love you too," he said through quivering lips. She closed her eyes and called up a vision of her uncle as he had been in life: Pale blue eyes, hooked nose, broad forehead and thinning blonde hair. He was wearing a tight white T-shirt and blues jeans, the cuffs rolled up. That was what he looked like the last time she saw him: She was kneeling in the back of the family station wagon as they left for Royal Woods. He stood on the sidewalk watching, a cigarette jutting from his thin lips. He grinned evilly at her and waved slowly. _I'm going to miss you, Rita,_ he said before they pulled off. He leaned in and kissed her forehead, his fingers threading through her hair. _I'm going to miss you_ a lot.

Rita jerked. She was standing in the middle of a street. It was night. Crickets chirped. She turned, and there it was, Uncle Freddy's house. 1428 Elm Street. Red door. Green shingles. Dread filled her heart and her stomach felt watery.

"Mom?"

Rita spun to see her daughters clustered behind her. Well...some of her daughters: One looked like Lynn, but she was tall with bulging muscles, and another was a...unicorn? "Hi, Mom!" the unicorn said in Leni's voice.

Rita opened her mouth to speak, but Lori rushed forward and hugged her. Rita hugged her back. "Are you guys okay?" she asked, running her hands over her daughter's back and checking for wounds.

"We're fine," Lori said. "What are you doing here?"

"Lincoln told me everything," she said, her eyes hardening. "Where is that bastard?"

"Behind you," Freddy said, and everyone turned with a start, Rita's arm flying protectively around Lori's shoulders. Freddy was standing in his front yard, his arms crossed and an ugly smile on his melted face. He wore that sweater her father bought him one Christmas, and the fedora. Rita gasped as she drank in the sight of his ruined face, her heart throbbing with terror.

He chuckled darkly. "Little Rita...my how you've grown." He took a step forward, and Rita drew back, shoving Lori behind her.

"Stay away from my family, Freddy," she said.

Freddy laughed and took another step forward, the light cast by a streetlamp falling across his face and painting it harsh yellow. "But I _am_ your family, Rita." He chuckled again and opened his arms. "Come to Uncle Freddy." Rita cried out as an unseen force jerked her forward.

"Mom!" Lynn yelled, and raised her gun. Freddy waved his arm, and the gun disappeared...as did Lori's bazooka, Lola's wand, and everything else. Lynn was her normal size again...Leni was Leni and no longer a unicorn.

Freddy laughed as he wrapped his arms around Rita's trembling frame. "You thought you could beat me," he said, and shoved his face into hers, their noses mashing together, "but here...in the dream world...I'm God." He jerked his head, and, from nowhere, creeping vines appeared and wrapped themselves around Lori's wrists and ankles. She screamed. Lynn jumped back as another vine wound around one of her ankles. Leni cried out as spider silk shot out of the darkness and wove itself around her body, pinning her arms. The pavement cracked apart, and the girls scattered, save for Lana, for fell to her hands and knees with a yell. The cracks widened until she was kneeling atop an island. Bright red lava coursed below. Lucy toppled back, wheeling her arms, and started to fall, but Lola grabbed her by the front of her dress and yanked her away.

"No!" Rita shrieked, and thrashed in her uncle's grasp, her fear evaporating as concern for her children overwhelmed her. Freddy drew her closer and jammed his tongue into her mouth. It was cold and slimy and wiggled worm-like against the insides of her cheeks. She gasped...then bit down as hard as she could: Freddy's eyes widened and he pulled back with a scream. Foul, cold sludge filled Rita's mouth, and she gagged. Freddy's eyes flashed, and he backhanded her with a meaty _smack_.

Lisa screamed as animate skeletons began to come out of the woods, their shoulders hunched and their eyes burning with fire. Two seized her and held her by the wrists. Lynn was writhing on the ground as vines crept over her. A thousand spiders filled the gossamer wound around Leni, and she screamed, tears rolling down her face. Lola stood protectively in front of Lucy, her teeth bared, as skeletons advanced on them. With a scream, she lunched herself at one and slammed its center with her shoulder: It fell apart, bones littering the pavement. The other went for Lucy; she sidestepped and pushed, sending it into the chasm. Lana lie on her side, trembling. More skeletons were coming out of the woodwork, some of them wearing fedoras and sweaters. Lola picked up a leg bone and brought it around in a deadly arch: Two skeletons jumped back, one reaching out to grab her but only succeeding in taking hold of her tiara.

" _That's mine!"_ she screamed, and jumped forward, slamming the bone down and hitting the skeleton in the ribs, which burst.

Behind her, Lucy pushed another skeleton back, but it kept coming, hitting her in the face with its fist and knocking her down.

Freddy watched with a grin on his face. He turned to Rita and leered. "I'm going to kill your children, Rita...just like I killed Luna and Luan."

Hot rage rose in Rita's stomach, pushing aside everything else: The concern, the terror of her uncle, the fear, the self-doubt, the pain...anger was all there was. Freddy barked laughter in her face. "They're all gonna die, bitch!"

Rita snapped. With a scream, she shoved him back, his grip around her breaking. He fell onto his ass with an _umph_. Rita was barely aware of the electricity surging through her veins, of the raw power crackling from her fingertips, that she was glowing faintly as her wrath made itself manifest. All of the energy in her body...love, hate, fear, envy, grief, joy, sorrow was flowing into the furnace of her rage, feeding it, stoking it. Her hopes, her dreams, her memories, her desires, her pleasure, her pain...everything was being sucked into the conflagration. Freddy looked scared.

" _I'm not afraid of you anymore,"_ she said, her voice rumbling from deep in the back of her throat. Her children watched her with wide, frightened eyes: Even the skeletons had stopped and were watching her with caution. _"You're a coward...a baby killer...I'M NOT AFRAID OF YOU ANYMORE!"_

She fell on him. Screaming, he brought his claw up and sank it deep into her stomach. She did not feel the pain as she wrapped her hands around his throat, deep not feel him desperately twisting the blades in her, ruining her guts. She felt only hatred...pure, black, unadulterated _hatred_. Her hands were glowing with bright yellow light, and Freddy's skin started to sizzle underneath them. He howled in pain and thrashed. "Stop!" he wailed. Rita tightened her grip. Green blood was rushing from his ears and his nose. He jerked the claw up, and Rita's intestines fell out onto him in a steaming heap, not that she noticed.

Freddy's eyes filled with blood, which began to leak down the sides of his face. His fedora caught fire, and his chest caved in. Rita held tighter, and roared in a mixture of wrath and loathing. Freddy writhed violently, his legs kicking and his heels clicking against the blacktop. He face fell in on itself, and a thousand sickly white worm creatures slithered away, each one bursting in a shower of blood. He let out one last scream as his flesh melted and his bones crumbled to dust, his hat, pants, boots, and sweater turning to green jelly.

For a moment, Rita remained on her hands and knees, panting. Then she stood up and turned to her children. The skeletons started, and opted to jump into the lava pits rather than face her. The vines and spider silk fell away from her daughters, and the fissures closed. She smiled and took a step forward, but her legs gave out and she fell to the pavement, suddenly aware of the burning in her stomach.

Her daughters clustered worriedly around her, some of them screaming and others crying. Lori knelt and took her mother's head into her lap. Tears streamed down her face. "M-Mom?"

Rita smiled up at her eldest daughter. "I'm okay," she muttered. The blood was draining from her face and her lips were turning blue. Lisa knew what that meant, and slipped her fingers under her glasses to pinch the corners of her eyes. Still, the tears fell. "Come here," Rita whispered, gesturing with one trembling hand. Her daughters all closed in around her and knelt.

"T-Take care of each other," she said, "take care of your father...take care of Lincoln." Everyone nodded that they would; already they were leaning on each other for support. Each of them was sobbing.

"I love you," she said...

Lincoln was sitting against the desk, his arms around his knees, when his mother's lips began to move. He leaned forward, his heart stopping in his chest. She was making words, but he couldn't hear them.

Crawling over Lisa, he pressed his ear to her mouth.

" _I love...you...Lincoln...take care...of your...sisters..."_

Lincoln jerked his head up, tears springing to his eyes. "M-Mom?" Even then, blood began to seep through her shirt. _"Mom!"_

When his sisters woke, they found him hugging their mother's head to his chest and weeping softly.

* * *

Ronnie Anne Santiago was buried on Monday, and Rita Loud was buried on Wednesday. Lincoln was at both funerals with his sisters clustered around him, giving their support and receiving what support he could return. At Ronnie Anne's funeral, he stood beside the closed casket for a long time, his hand resting on the lid and silent tears sliding down his cheeks. He sorely wanted to lift the top and see her one final time, but he knew that what was in there wasn't Ronnie Anne but what was left of her. If what he heard through the gossip-vine was true, she wasn't even whole. _I love you,_ he thought. _I loved you, and I always will._

At his mother's funeral, he and the rest of his family wept openly and bitterly. At her coffin, he cupped her cold cheek in his hand and kissed her forehead, his tears dropping onto her icy flesh.

She was buried in the family plot in-between Luna and Luan, and it gave Lincoln some consolation to know that they were reunited.

The road to recovery was long and arduous, but the Louds had each other, and eventually they healed, because no matter what terrible thing happens in this life, as long as you have your family and their love, you will always bounce back.

The journey was not easy, but they all made it. And Freddy Krueger never bothered them again.


End file.
